We’re vaxxers at our house. We give our sons all of the vaccines that the CDC recommends. Of course, we do all of our research beforehand and are crazy, obsessive freaks after the fact because we’re sure his leg will fall off in the middle of the night from whatever weird ass shot that was that will prevent him from catching something like athlete’s foot. It never has, but it doesn’t stop us from being hyper-vigilant about it.
Today, our little one year old had some blood drawn, had four vaccinations, plus a flu shot. I’m halfway surprised that he hasn’t packed his sad little knapsack and threatened to runaway and join the hobos on the train yet. I guess he can’t walk and he can’t reach his top dresser drawer where we keep his jackets. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure he’d be outta here.
This baby has six band-aids on right now! I’m not pulling them off because I feel like it’ll just wind up causing more screaming than the shots did. And that wasn’t cool at all. They’ll have to fall off on their own and let’s hope that’s not in the middle of the cake tomorrow during his birthday party.