Survival.

Okay. I survived. But it was NOT pretty.

Now, If you know me, you know I have a really, really hard time getting anywhere on time. I could blame it on the children, and the fact that I have to get four children dressed and brushed and flattened and out the door... but it's not really a good excuse. It's not like they are my neighbors kids that just happen to be staying with me for the weekend. They are MY kids, and they live here ALL the time. So I get them up and ready and out the door, ALL the time. I should be well versed in the amount of time it takes to get all this done. But I'm still late. A lot. I hate it. And I'm trying to work on it.

THIS MORNING though, miracle of miracles, I was out the door on time and we arrived at the doctors office right when we were supposed to. If only it had made a difference. We waited thirty minutes in the lobby. I can handle thirty minutes in the lobby. It was the 70 minutes that we waited in the exam room that had me near batty! We played Simon Says, and "I'm thinking of an animal", and every other nonsense game ever known to creation... we told stories, we sang songs... we debated the pros and cons of shots in the arm, as opposed to shots in the leg...

All this kept us entertained oh, maybe 13 minutes. The rest of the time was just pure torture. Jordan refused to accept any and all of my mild, vague, and uncommitted answers about what the stirrups on the end of the doctor's table were actually for. Henry decided he wanted to pull everything out of the trash can, and scribble all over the suede cushion of the office chair. (yeah, sorry about that doctor, but you DID leave us in that room for over an hour, so we'll call it even... deal?)

The walls were closing in, the sweat was beading on my upper lip and dripping down between my shoulder blades.... I came so close to walking out.. I mean, really?! Was there no mercy for the woman in the teeny tiny room with an army of children?!

In the doctor's defense, he really is exceptional. He's kind and compassionate... knows and remembers my kids, respects my motherly feelings and intuition about my kids... and generally, he's pretty prompt. Something must have been up today.

So, our seventy minutes was up, and my children dutifully braved the doctor's questions and exams. Henry was the least compliant. Apparently he found the stethoscope a huge invasion of his privacy. Thumbs up all around and it was time for the shots.

Jordan was a champ for his one little flu shot. Lucy was the most amazing, bravest little thing I've ever seen... climbed right up, bared her arms, and didn't even wince. Not a tear, not a cry... she was so tough.

And then I body slammed a kicking and screaming Sam to the table, where two nurses pinned his legs down and, ignoring his rattling screams of protest, quickly shot him up. I swear you could have heard him on the other side of town...

Probably not smart to save Henry for last. He watched his brothers and sister suffer in shock and horror and ran for the door when I reached for him. He made it through as well though and we all left the office in one piece.

Frazzled, tired, and stressed. But whole, healthy, and immunized.

And now I will have my cherry coke.