We're very lucky.
Jack is the sort of child
we all assume we'll have
when we decide to have children,
and the sort of child
less experienced parents
congratulate themselves for.January and February 2004
March and April 2004
May and June 2004
July and August 2004
September and October 2004
November and December 2004
Blogs we read:
Tuesday, Jul. 13, 2004 - Dad
First Injections and Rubber Duckies
Well, it had to start sometime. Inoculations are a fact of life. While I am happy to see them put off until the child is sturdy and strong, I support mass inoculation, so today was Jack�s first injection.
We got the weights and measures out of the way. Jack has now joined the 10th percentile for height and weight, which means he is indeed a tiny boy, though he is still healthy. Had he not gained at all, the doctor may have been worried, but he managed a modest gain in both weight and height, and he is otherwise thriving. (19.5 pounds and 29.5 inches tall) His head is now in the 85th percentile, so it is still proportionally huge, and that seems to reflect his personal priorities.
Jack has made no secret about wanting to be smart. From his thirst for reading, to his phenomenal grasp of language all the way to playing butt-tag with the cat- Yeah he wants to be smart. It would seem that even his physical growth pattern reflects this end.
Beth Barkley is our family paediatrician, and she is amazed at Jack�s calm yet engaging demeanour. She was also suitably impressed when she heard about his 20 words and his obsession with books.
Beth assured me that they don�t use the Mercury based inoculations in her clinic (egad- Mercury in inoculations?- anyway, I am glad to hear that they don�t use it) and that the new whooping cough vaccine has removed the possibility of seizures as a potential side effect without increasing any other risks.
He was in a particularly calm frame of mind today, pensive and well rested, smiling and flirting just enough to maintain his reputation.
Jack lay back down on the table, and Beth produced her �infant distraction� toy. It was Sesame Street�s Ernie holding a light-up rubber duckie and squawking a tune that was supposed to be music, but it had neither Jack or I fooled.
Jack gave this thing his �you�ve got to be joking� stare while Beth administered his shot. Jack didn�t flinch with the shot, but he was hoping I could stop the bloody racket coming from the toy.
It turns out that the sadistic minds that inflict such crap on our children make them without an off button. Pressing the ducky repeatedly only changes the nature of the affliction. I say affliction because it is an insult to musicians the world over to call it music. It still amazes me that, after 30 years of development, �musical� toys still sound like the music is being played with a knitting needle and a paper cone on a gramophone.
Having said that, it served its purpose perfectly, it distracted Jack from the events of the moment, and that�s all it had to do.
I�m not sure whether Misti�s many insulin injections of late have desensitised Jack to the visual spectacle of injections, or whether the gazillion mosquito bites he has had lately have dulled him to the jab, or whether Ernie and his damned ducky did their job better than expected, but his first injection goes down as one of the grand non-events in Jack�s life, but it gave me an excuse to rant.
Take Care
Rod
