When it was time for my son to get his immunizations for Kindergarten, I was a little concerned as his last couple flu shots had upset him quite a lot, but his dad had been present to help for those and could not join us that day. We arrived at the nurse’s office to get the shots and he paced around anxiously as I filled out the papers and refused to go to the play area with his little sister.
And then he suddenly bolted right out the door into the parking lot. I looked at the door; I looked at my girls; I looked at the receptionist in a complete panic. “Just go,” she said, “I’ll watch them.” So, I bolted out the door leaving my baby in her carrier and my toddler in the play area.
He disappeared around the corner of the building just as I emerged. I ran after him, completing two entire laps around the building before deciding he was too far ahead and I was too out of shape for me to ever catch up. After he rounded the corner again, I reversed directions and hid against the corner on the opposite side. I leaped out just as he was about to round the corner and was able to snatch him. I dragged him kicking and screaming back into the office.
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This is a series of stories about my oldest child. During his early years, I spent my on-line time reviewing symptom checklists for a variety of behavioral disorders, and I was quite sure we would have to send him to military school one day. I was completely defeated by his behavior on many occasions. I have long struggled to find the right way to share these stories on my blog. I finally decided just to write them as they are, with no great revelation about their impact. (Though a couple do include a follow-up disciplinary technique that worked!) My purpose in sharing these stories is three-fold. I hope to provide a good laugh, to give a thank-goodness-its-not-just-my-kid OR an at-least-my-kid-hasn’t-done-that feeling, and also to instill hope that your ‘that’ kid can turn out to be as amazing as mine someday. He still drives me somewhat crazy, but at 18 he is a great person with a bright future (and was not sent to military school)! Some personality traits that are horrific in a young child are pretty dang awesome in a teen ready to head out into the world.
Once we got inside, a wide-eyed woman took us directly back to a room as the receptionist continued to watch my girls. A nurse came in, quickly saw the situation was dire, and called next door for help. It took me and two other women to hold him down while another administered the shots. We all let go when she finished.
But he was not relieved it was over in the least. He was enraged. He kicked a box of toys, scattering them about the room, and then grabbed a chair by it arms and hurled it into the wall screaming, “I hate this place!” He then pointed up at each and every one of the four of us, all standing astonished with mouths agape, and screamed, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, and I hate you!” I attempted to straighten the room while the ladies assured me they would do it themselves. I am certain they just wanted us to leave!
When I returned a couple years later with his little sister for her shots, the same nurse came in and smiled. “I saw your last name on the schedule yesterday and thought about calling in sick this morning,” she said, “but then I realized it surely had to be a different kid.”
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When he was 8, I got a terrible case of strep throat and the doctor suggested I bring in all the kids to get cultured in case they had it too. He did not want one. When it was his turn, he refused to sit in the chair or open his mouth. Don't forget he was EIGHT in the story! Restraining a child this size is no easy task, but I managed to pull him down into the chair on my lap and hold onto his arms, despite his aggressive thrashing. He proceeded to kick the nurse in the shins as she approached with the tongue depressor. In an attempt to save this poor woman from a leg full of bruises, I wrapped each of my legs around each of his to trap them, and she forged on. She pinched his nose to get him to open his mouth and put in the tongue depressor. He gasped for air once and clamped his mouth shut again with the depressor still inside. He bit it clean in half and spewed it into her face. At this point, she called for reinforcements and the x-ray technician came to pinch his nose with one hand and pry his jaw with the other, so the nurse was finally able to take the throat culture. Apparently, he had matured beyond the point of screaming, “I hate you,” because he just stormed out the back door once we let go.
Two miracles happened that day: 1. The glass door did not shatter as he left and hit it hard enough that it easily could have. 2. He was the ONLY strep-free child, so he did not have to come back for a follow-up culture after the antibiotics.
Did you miss the first two installments of this series? Click links below.
That Kid Who Will NOT Leave the Park
That Kid Who STILL Bites
I am the mother of seven children ranging from teens to a toddler, living out in the middle of nowhere, USA. I aim to hone the craft of giving advice without pretending to have this whole mom thing figured out. I am Christian, but not the really nice kind that is good at it. I am also conservative, but I promise not to be in your face with political agendas very often. I like to infuse humor into my writing, so don't freak out if you are offended or appalled by what you read here. There is a very fine line between serious advice and sarcastic hyperbole.