The Well Visit

There are some of you out there who know that one of my least favorite things to do in life is take my kids to go see the doctor. So naturally, this Mama doesn't DO most of the "Well Visits" our clinic would love to have set up. After your second child, you begin to arrive at the realization that well visits go against all motherly instincts. Probably because after attending a "Well Visit" at least one child shortly thereafter becomes very unwell due to the germ-athon that takes place in a doctor's office. Again, I stress, this Chick doesn't do well visits.

But, I have recently discovered that there is a point where a clinic begins to refuse to treat your child for a very real illness, because you have neglected to take him or her to two years of well visits. Hmmm....maybe the John Edwards Healthcare plan is already in operation? Go figure. Things get busy in this household, and the last thing I want to do is induce illness on my children just so the clinic can check some wellness visit box off on their chart. However, I did have to face the hard earned truth that my avoidance of wellness visits has put us a tad behind on the vaccinations. So it was time to face the music. A LOT OF MUSIC.

Today was vaccination make up day at our house. It was a day for much prayer and beseeching before setting foot in the doctor's office. Determined to set off on the right foot, I set out an hour ahead of time making sure hair was brushed, teeth were sparkling, and socks matched. What I forgot to do was an underwear check. So imagine my surprise when during Sir Bugga-Lot's inspection the doctor and I both discover together that Jack has decided to go commando for the day!

But really, everyone was in great spirits, and the visit went very well considering the odds against us. Sir Bugga-Lot even had to pee in a cup that his mommy held with two sisters looking on, and he did it to perfection. Now that is tough to do!

After a two hour long visit (another reason why I hate taking three kids into a doctor's office), it was time for the dreaded shots. My poor little man had to take FIVE shots in the legs, while the Queen received 3 whammies in her tiny little arms. Never in my life have I heard the Queen scream at such astronomical decibels. With both children shrieking for mercy, the littlest Princess began to live up to her name and wailed in terror over the other two tortured souls. And I'm quite sure that if I could have done a womb check, Baby Hope was also beside herself in fear. The shrieking, OH my friends THE SHRIEKING... it was impressive.

But really, we had a great visit. The kids are a bit stiff, but otherwise survivors. Next week will I'm sure be a different story when three out of five of us will have our heads in sick buckets because we succumbed to the WELL VISIT.