Anyone want to trade mornings?

Upon arising, tell the children the day's "Plan" and lay out the reward and/or punishment system if things don't go well because of their behavior. The reward for good behavior -- Taco Bell for lunch and then Blizzards at DQ. The punishment? A spanking for outlandish behavior (crying, screaming, thrashing about wildly and gnashing of teeth) at just the discussion of "The Plan." Another spanking for said outlandish behavior during the execution of "The Plan." And yet another spanking for ongoing outlandish behavior after "The Plan" has been completed. Talk especially to Wes - because I know what is in store for me....and most likely him. So what exactly is "The Plan?"

Take 4 children who need a total of 13 shots between them to the Health Department to get those much needed kindergarten shots that somehow I just neglected to get. Perhaps because they never left home to go to school?

Now - that should be all I need to write and every mother out there is nodding their head because they know what I'm talking about. And I'm betting nobody wanted to trade spots with me. But I'll go on anyway.

Upon arriving at the Health Department, have everyone sit on the nice, cold metal chairs while I fill out not one, not two, not three but four identical sets of paperwork. I have written my last name more times today than in the past month. And of course our last name happens to have 10 letters in it, so that in itself can be a tiresome thing.

After finally turning in the paperwork, answer the same questions again and again about why I don't know how 3 of the children reacted to their previous vaccines.

After answering the same question from Ryan at least 20 times about why he has to be the one to get 4, not 3 shots, I make my biggest mistake. I show him the picture I have been looking at every time I look up from the mountain of paperwork. It is a child with a horrendous case of the chicken pox. I have never seen a child look so horrific from them. And I tell him that he has to get the shot so he doesn't look like that. Somehow in his brain what I said didn't make it all the way to the process center and he immediately became convinced that upon getting the shot he was going to look exactly like the picture.

So of course they called him in first. When I tried to change their minds and let him go later, they would have none of that. They wanted him first so as not to mix up any of the trays of shots they had ready for the kids. I wanted to assure them that I could tell the difference between 3 and four syringes and would take responsibility, but instead I took Ryan and back we went into "the shot room."

Ryan, usually a stoic little boy, immediately dissolved into a puddle of tears as he was imagining his freckles turning into red, crusty pus pockets all over his face. And when the first needle went in, the screams began. Without ceasing. He was still sniffling when they gave him a coloring book and a Hershey bar.

Next up - Wes. Of course I was looking forward to this like I would a root canal without novacaine. And I was not disappointed. Wes was in fine form. He hit notes that any soprano would be proud to call their own. To his credit, he did not cry before at all. Nor did he cry but a couple of minutes afterward. All in all - except that I couldn't hear for the next hour - Wes was a trooper.

Third came Carly - who was repeating to herself under her breath, "I am brave. I am strong. I am mighty." Over and over. And she was. We gave each other Eskimo kisses during the whole things and she never shed a tear.

Jacob was last and although he told them he wanted his shots in his arms, he had to suffer the indignation of dropping his jeans in front of the 3 nurses and getting his shots in his legs like the others. He did fine till the last one. Where he shed a tear or two. The nurses all said the last one stung like fire, so I cut him some slack and had a bit more respect for Carly's bravery. It wasn't until later that Jacob told me that the woman outside said after age 7, the shots could be given in the arms. I would have insisted on that - had I known.

All in all, everyone was pretty brave. Not that ANY of us want to repeat this adventure anytime soon.

So off to Taco Bell we went. Ryan was right in the middle of his second taco when he started crying again. He was saying his stomach hurt. I'm thinking he is having some reaction and off to the bathroom I sweep him as quickly as I can. He is clutching his stomach. I can't decide which end something is about to come out of. And then he starts asking me......"am I changing yet? I'm trying to figure out what he is talking about while looking for signs of impending vomit and he keeps asking me the same question. I finally figure out he is talking about the chicken pox. I lift him up and show him his same ol' freckly face in the mirror and his stomach is instantly all better. He goes back to finish his taco off and is ready for his blizzard.

Next we hit DQ where Carly and Wes had Oreo blizzards, Ryan an M&M one and Jacob tried the new Pumpkin Pie blizzard.

Me, I'm just glad to be home. The kids are in the family room watching "Fly Away Home." They are in there laughing like idgets - their pain forgotten.

Not a bad plan after all.