Stick me with you best shot (Fire Away!)

Lame attempt at a Pat Benetar reference, I know, but it's all I've got. The day is almost over and I'm trying to tuck myself in early just like Gia did. At 4:30 in the afternoon, my little picky crumb muncher decided to beg for "dinnah." Felling guilty for providing such a suckfest of a morning to her, I obliged and by 5:30 pm (yes it takes me that long to "prepare" and not actually cook food) she had what she wanted sitting right there in front of her. Two helpings of vacuum fried banana chips, watermelon, macaroni, and ham - all of which were her suggestions. By 6 pm she was whining around, speaking inaudible phrases, so I asked her what she wanted.

"Sleep mama. Bed. Nigh-Nigh"

Dude, I love this whole talking thing and even if we showed up late to the talk-party, I'm still glad we're here.

So, in she crawls, underneath my perfectly white sheets which I bought in hopes of making my bedroom brighter and absolutely disregarded the fact that I have a toddler, who co-sleeps. I used a box and a half of wipe (or so it seemed) to clean her off and then she fell fast asleep after a reading of Where the Wild Things Are(the only non-braille book that she will currently let me read to her without her head popping of and spinning around in anger). When babe gets a 6:30pm bedtime, mama gets an early one as well. My gol is to be asleep BEFORE Chelsea handler so that I get some actual rest, and avoid eating the full contents of my fridge while I stay awake anxiously thinking about what will be, and what will come of the blood work we had done this morning.


Like a good younger sister, I convinced Erin (five years my gorgeous but appropriately titled elder)to come with Gia and I to the Quest Diagnostics Lab to have Gia's blood drawn. I'm not sure what other sister in the world would sign up for this gig, knowing all to well that the only thing she can do is pick up flying shoes from a pissed tot kicking them across the room, and hold my stare when I wince in pain. She's either really, really demented and into pain, or so incredibly supportive that it hurts my heart.

Two gentlemen in white coats walked into the room and spoke with 148 lbs of confidence about what they were testing for and how everything would be okay. This pig-tailed, 50's inspired glasses, lifesaver colored leggings, smile wearing child would be no match for them. You could just tell that they had seen so many kids that one more, even mine, wouldn't phase them with her thrashing around and crying.
I held her tight, as they instructed, which made me think that I was giving her a thousand bruises while at the same time playing a mat-less version of Twister with my kid. Her legs were folded and squeezed between my knees. Her right arm was free from my grips until she screamed, moved and the blood flow stopped. We switched arms and I tucked her right arm underneath mine while they smooshed and squeezed her left arm.

Have you had such a blood draw with your children yet? It sucks giant King Kong sized ape/gorilla/monkey balls.

Gia was better than I had anticipated, and even though she cried and wiggled around, she also settled down a lot more than last time. No one was interested in singing Raffi with me, so I alone tried to carry a tune and it worked some of the time. I kept my cool, for her, to a certain extent. At one point she stopped flailing around and tried to rest her head. With tears streaming, she said "S-s-s-ssorry Mm-m-mama."

yeah.

I cried. White lab coat guy #1 quivered his lip and let out whimpers, while shushing her and saying "It's okay baby." What kind of a child apologizes for getting her blood drawn or for thinking she was either behaving bad or had done something and this was her punishment. I'll tell you what kind of child, a phenomenal child. When the draw was over, the two men put cotton balls and tape on her arms as fast as possible, but she ripped it off before it stuck to her. My decision to put a white tank top on her was, at that point, a big mistake. The blood shed on her new shirt, coupled with the screaming, and blood stained skin/fingers, sent the children we passed in the waiting room, into an uproar. They're worst fears materializing I suppose. I'm sure it sounded like we were filming a horror movie back there, minus the Raffi song Five Little Frogs.

Gia was pretty clingy the rest of the day, and even took a nap when we got home. I don't know how the fate worked that one out, we specially since I fed her ice cream for lunch. Yes,I'm teaching my child to eat her emotions. Ish.

The funny part of the whole experience/day is that she refused to put her arms down. All day long she walked around like a robot. Or barbie. I'm not sure why, but at least it's over and the results are that much closer to being here, right?


(All day....)