File this under: "Thank goodness that's over!"

The other day, I completed a parenting duty that makes the rest look like child's play. I took the older four to get flu shots.

You'd have thought I took them all to have brain surgery, with no anesthesia.

We don't typically get the flu shot (I admit this is largely in part by the content you are about to read), so my children are not very accustomed to receiving it. On our scheduled day, I picked them up from school and drove toward the doctor's office. As I drove, I casually mentioned where we were going.

Immediate hysteria from one child in particular. "It's going to hurt! I don't want a flu shot! I DON'T WANT A FLU SHOT!"

I explained calmly (hoping to contain the hysteria so that it would not infect the others) that I had recently had a flu shot and was amazed by how pain-free it was.

"Do you remember last week when Mommy had her shot (I always speak in third person - even to adults. It makes me lots of fun at parties)? I went on and on to you about how I didn't even know the nurse had given it to me!"

One of the younger children pipes up: "The flu shot doesn't hurt!", but the older child is not convinced.

When we finally got back to the exam room, the children were anxious, but controlled. My most-afraid-child wanted to go first. I thought it was a good idea to get this one over with. The nurse came forward and did the deed. I was right there with a ready smile, saying "See? That wasn't bad at all, right?"

"No! It really hurt! I can't believe you said yours didn't hurt you!!"

It went downhill from there. Now everyone was afraid, because Mommy obviously lied to every one's face. They all cried and struggled. During this whole time, I, of course, was holding my fussy baby, giving me that extra parenting challenge that I so enjoy.

After it was all over, and the children were holding their injection sites, we limped out to the car. I had promised them Dairy Queen if they were good. They were all saying that they didn't deserve Dairy Queen, but I took them anyway. They had survived, though it was tough. After they had all ordered their ice cream, I ordered a Blizzard for myself.

I told the cashier I had earned it.

I can't wait for round two of the swine flu shots. . .

One letter makes a big difference

We were driving home from school the other day and my son said, "Look Mommy! That bird is praying to Jesus!"

I couldn't see what he was looking at, so I asked him for more information.

"He's praying to Jesus! He's flying around in circles praying to Jesus!"

I was still confused. He continued to explain. "Last summer when we were hiking with Daddy, we saw a bird flying in a circle. Daddy said he was praying!".

A couple of the older kids started to chime in "Oh - you mean preying!".

He looked a little disappointed. Looking for dead animals is not nearly as lovely as praying to Jesus.

Blogging? What's that again?

So - life over here is a bit busy. I think often of my blog, longingly, in fact. I have ideas about things to blog. . .I attempt to head to the computer to blog. . .and then my small, sweet, beautiful daughter reminds me of her presence. Usually loudly and with much fervor.

Pretty much all the time, as I stated in an earlier blog, I am in the recliner, rocking my baby girl. I am beginning to wonder if rocking vigorously counts as exercise. It's a pretty good workout. Maybe I should make some DVDs and try to market them to the postpartum set. "Rockin' with your baby! Tone those flabby thighs in 36 hours [of continuous rocking - but I won't reveal that right away to my target audience]! Call now and receive these bonus gifts - maid service for a week - your whole house cleaned and meals cooked!" Those bonus gifts will come in handy, because your butt never leaves the recliner, making it rather difficult to do any cleaning or cooking (and parenting of other children, but I can't provide everything!).

So - that's where I am right now. I try to remind myself as I rock and feed my baby girl that the house will keep, and these "baby moon" days are short. Some days it is easier than others.

A small miracle has occurred while I wrote this post. My darling daughter has been quiet while not being held for about 20 minutes. It's the little things in life.

Out of the mouths of babes

Tonight our Bible story was about a man and the special wife God provided for him. One of our sons shares the name of the man in the story, so it was of special interest to him.

I said to him, "Maybe God will give you a wife with that name."

He replied, "No. . .I want a wife named. . .Mommy."

I will take that as the highest compliment and assume he will change his tune as he gets older. :)