It was a bad day

Being a new parent, I am not used to all the ‘firsts’ that accompany a new child. We took Wes to the doctor Tuesday for his 8-week appointment along with his first round of shots.

I knew what was going to happen but I didn’t realize that it would have an effect on me the way it did. Wes did fine for the first part of his examination and is growing just right. However, the last thing on the list for the day was the immunization shots. That’s when it went wrong.

As the nurse stuck my poor child for the second time, I saw his first real tear form in his eye. He has cried many times before but this time it must have involved real pain. I watched the small drop just sit in the corner of his tightly closed eye knowing I could do nothing. Punching the nurse in the nose wouldn’t help since his eyes were closed and he wouldn’t see that I came to his rescue.

It’s all over now but having seen that tear has made me realize just how much more real this whole parenting thing is and how much I don’t know or understand.

I look at him and wonder how he can go from a smile to an all-out cry fest in about .02 seconds. You have to ask ‘what the heck is wrong?’ But he never tells me.

Some things I do understand. I have sat around in wet clothing (water, I might add) and know that it can be very uncomfortable. I can understand why he might cry for that. While I have never sat around in an underwear full of runny poop, I can easily imagine myself crying if I could not get out of it.

Now I have been hungry before and those of you who know me also know I have not missed many meals. However, I don’t think that my hunger pains have ever been bad enough to make me cry. My social lifestyle would have been seriously damaged if I did.

While these are just a few of the many things I do and don’t understand, I am told that is the tip of the iceberg. I see parents around me laugh at my anguish in order to get just a little retribution for what they have gone through. But that’s OK. Just remember, I know who you are and where you live. I can also buy toilet paper by the case and blame everything on Wes.