Jag, Jag, Jaggity-Jag

Yesterday (Weds) Midi Minx got her MMR and DTaP booster vaccinations. She’s 3.5 years old, 105cm tall and 18kg. But she’s still my wee baby!

We had a really nice day just hanging out together, chatting mostly. After all her hearing problems, her speech is suddenly coming on in leaps and bounds, and she takes a lot of care to express herself precisely. Which is usually funny as hell.

In the nurse’s waiting room we watched BBC News 24. Midi watched a piece on Libya, pointed at the rebels with guns, thought for a minute, then asked, “Mummy? Is that a naughty boy?” Stifling giggles, I tried to explain that the naughty boys were fighting other naughty boys, and that there were toys everywhere because the children they belonged to had run away and hid. Teresa May came on the tv. “That’s a woman, ACK-choorlaaaaay!” Midi announced, a propos nothing at all.

As Midi is 3, I knew I couldn’t hood-wink her, so explained that her vaccinations were going to give her a big ouch that would hurt then go away. I bribed her with a big lollipop and showed it to her from my handbag. I also reminded her that she was the bravest of all my daughters because she fell over every single day (my God, you should see her purple and blue knees and shins!) but rarely cried. At the end of the half-hour with the nurse, she settled on my lap quite happily for the jags after making sure the lolly was still there. The first one didn’t cause her any bother at all and she loved all the praise. The second one, though, was very nippy and made her cry although she tried so hard not to. My poor brave little girl! She needed a big Mummy Cuddle and a kiss from a wide-eyed Mini, then some distracting with 2 stickers and the lolly. Today her arm is up in a hot red lump, but after a dose of Nurofen it’s not stopping her sleeping.

Actually, it was a day themed with medical stuff, because I took Midi to see the doctor in the morning. She’s been complaining of a sore tummy for a few days and today it was in her side. Her pee has been cloudy and she had a few accidents despite being dry for 6 months. All symptoms of a UTI. And also symptoms of being a busy, normal, healthy 3 year old. But I Am Not A Doctor, so I took her to one. I *tried* to arrive all prepared and attempted to get her to pee into a sterilised jam jar. The poor girl tried and tried, but had serious performance anxiety. The doc insisted that a sample was needed, and gave me the kit to fill and post off. “I’m afraid she’ll probably end up weeing on your hand”, he apologised. “Och, I’ve had worse on them, and no doubt will have again later today”, I confided, looking pointedly at Mini. He looked horrified. Guess he hasn’t got kids…

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