This week, Isla and Asher went to the pediatrician’s office for their annual physicals. They’re both doing great, growing on track, meeting their milestones. We were cruising along right up until Isla heard the “s” word- shots. Poor child needed immunizations- ugh. No amount of reasoning or bribing calmed the storm of Isla’s refusal. It took 3 adults just to hold her down. Awful. I’m pretty tough with this sort of thing. I nursed a 3-month old in a PICU while he was hooked to every kind of monitor and had a swollen, shaved head with 200+ fresh stitches in it. Still, Isla’s ordeal found me silently chanting a breathing exercise to keep my tears at bay.
Soooo, we left the torture chamber pediatrician and headed straight to the ice cream shop! And Baby Girl got a scoop for each needle (3), and ate every last bite. About halfway through, she informed me that she was starting to feel much better. And by the next day, she was pretty stoked to show off her puncture wounds to the preschool crowd.
Asher- 33 pounds (81%tile), 36.5 inches (75%ile)
Isla- 37 pounds (61%ile), 41 inches (71%ile)
Keeping up with the Rosses 