I feel like I should post happy things -- a lot of them -- to move Sunday's post down. Alas, this is not necessarily a happy thing, but it does satisfy the latter goal....
Zander woke up with a strange rash on his arms yesterday and a low-grade fever, so we decided to take him to the doctor. He had been feeling a little "grumpy" (his term) lately, so we figured better safe than sorry. It ended up being an odd and long day because the doctor wanted us to get some blood taken.
I very quickly I learned to not to call the procedure "taking" blood, but rather a blood "draw." The word "taking" really rubbed Zander the wrong way. He was oh-so-concerned about how *much* blood they would "take" and "WHEN would they be giving it back?!" Good questions, in my opinion! Overall, he was surprisingly patient and brave including when the technician who took the blood didn't say ONE WORD to him. What kind of person doesn't talk to a child at all before
taking drawing his or her blood?
Anyway, my favorite (and also least favorite) moment was after they put the needle in, Zander screamed, "WHY IS HE BREAKING MY SKIN?" Even the curmudgeon technician
taking drawing his blood smiled.
P.S. And Mom, if you're out there and reading this, don't worry -- it's probably nothing to worry about.