Jab time.

First of all: yes Noah is laying down next to a toilet. Call social services if you like, we don't care (we do. So don't; we were just getting him ready for a bath so don't cry).

Now, on with the blog. This week, we had to take Noah to the doctors to get his jabs. We sat in the waiting room with all the other waiting babies and terrified mothers. And a transvestite. I digress.

The buzzer went off: NOAH WEBB: IMMUNISATIONS ROOM 1. Destiny called, we answered. The door was open when we got there. Cheryl had prepped me: "It's horrible" she said, "You can hold him this time seeing as you're doing piss all in your half term holiday" I told Cheryl to calm down but she just explained that it wasn't a nice experience last time when she had to go there alone and hold Noah tight as he stared into her eyes and silently screamed, "WHY?" as the nurse jabbed him. 

I got Noah's left leg out. Showed his thigh to the waiting nurse, then held onto him, with my breath held, as she jabbed him...nothing. "Okay" she said, "He'll probably go bat shit with the next one" Another jab. Still nothing. Noah winced, cried for about 3 seconds and then laughed at me. 

Hard man.

Anyway, here he is with the bloody cotton balls still on his legs. The most heartbreaking thing is seeing his blood.