Bandaids Personified

Today was pretty eventful. Some of the things I probably shouldn't laugh about, but I have to because I don't know what else to do! I took both of my kids to the doctor today, for their yearly checkups. Note: Neither one of my kidlets got a nap today.

Claire is a little jumping bean-- she feels the need to jump wherever we go. If she doesn't get a nap, this energy is doubled because she is afraid she will fall asleep (Ben, too). She also feels the need to be just like her big brother. So, when Ben pushed the button in the elevator, she not only felt the need to push another button (which just happened to be the alarm button), but she jumped all the way to the top floor of the building.

We got in quickly, which was a relief. The problem is I have two cyclones. I get one settled doing what they should, turn around and the other is wreaking some form of havoc on everything they touch. I held Claire while Ben got measured and weighed. Then, while Claire got weighed, Ben unrolled an entire roll of stickers that the doctor's office has. I got Claire measured, while Ben stole the candy from the nurses station, and pounded the keys on their keyboard (quite possibly messing up someone's health records).

Claire ran around the doctor's office in her diaper, while I attempted to help Ben with his vision test. We have to go back and try again in a month, because my attempt failed-- Ben kept peeking, and getting distracted by other things. He looked anywhere but where he was supposed to. Then, I tried to hold Claire's hand and help him focus, and she pulled the stunt where she goes totally limp.

Claire jumped all around the room (pushing the swinging door that covers the garbage each time she passed-- GROSS!!!), while Ben attempted to get a hearing test. The hearing test also very nearly failed, because Ben couldn't remember what the nurse had told him to do when he heard the tone. So the first time he heard the tone, he raised his hand like she told him, but then he forgot to put it down after. The next time he heard the tone, he says, "Um, um, um" and wiggled all around. The next time he heard the tone, he screamed for lack of anything better to do. Switch ears-- I gave him a little paddle (made from one of the tongue depressors and two stickers), and we repeated the instructions again (the third or fourth time, I can't remember exactly). About the same result, except he didn't scream this time.

Ben terrorized the doctor while he examined Claire, and Claire made a ruckus around the room while Ben got examined. Then came the fun part.

Both of the kids had to get vaccines. Ben went first, at the urging of the nurses. He was crying even before we put him up on the table, the poor kid! The first poke came, and he let out a piercing scream. Then, for the second, third, fourth, and fifth pokes Ben screamed, "BANDAID!!! BANDAID!!!! BANDAID!!!!" each time, at the top of his lungs.

Claire put up a fair fight (she's pretty successful, actually-- she's the strongest 2-year-old I've ever met, except maybe her cousin Ethan. . .), but she ended up crying too. Ben got a book to distract him from the pain, but Claire just kept on crying. So, we exited the doctor's office with Ben wiping the tears from his eyes, and Claire still sobbing.

Ben's legs (and bandaids, apparently) hurt the rest of the night-- one comment after another. . . "Mom, I don't think my legs can walk anymore." "Mom, can I ride in the cart? My legs won't work." "Mom, I want to keep my bandaids on forever and ever and EVER." "My bandaids feel like they're a little sleepy." "Mom, my bandaids feel like they need to eat dinner." "My bandaids feel like they need to read a story." "Mom, don't take my bandaids off in the bath, okay? They will come off when they're ready." "My bandaids feel like my legs hurt." Keep in mind-- 90% of these comments came after I'd given him medicine for the pain. . .

And that's how bandaids come to life.