Not only did I let people poison my kids yesterday; I waited in line two and a half hours for the privilege. After an awful morning of numerous tantrums and tears (the girls too), I packed the girls up to head off to the county clinic. In the true spirit of Trick or Treat, they were handing out free H1N1 shots and Flumist yesterday.
I am somewhere in the middle of the vaccine debate. At heart I am all "they really are poison and why in the hell would I let you shoot my kid up with that!" but my head counters with "look at all the good they have done and do you really think the risk is worth it?". And my Id is jumping up and down screaming "AUTISM!". My husband is more of a right on schedule kind of guy so he and my three personalities agreed to a slightly delayed schedule for the girls' regular vaccines.
Being optional and all, the flu shot just never happens for us. For I am lazy. And cheap. They haven't gotten it before because that would have involved an extra trip to the doctor and two more copays.
This year however, the H1N1 hysteria has hooked me and I started to fret about them dying of the flu. And how my husband would leave me because I let his precious darlings die because I was too lazy and hippie-ish to get them one simple shot. Or they would infect my newly born niece BabyP and it would cause a huge rift in the family which would leave me spending all my holidays with the in-laws and they hardly drink. Not good, not good.
Beyond my runaway imagination, I was worried about them getting sick and me being stuck at home with two sick kids. That would be really bad for their health and even worse for mine. So when I read that the county had the mist (mercury free) and it was free (FREE!) I decided to head on down there.
Along with half the parenting population of my small city. If nothing else, it may have been worth going for the people watching. Standouts included:
*The first time parents, easily spotted by the loving father and mother team. Ah, I remember those days when the husband came everywhere with us. Doctor appointments were fun since they were followed by Mexican lunches with margaritas while the girls slept peacefully in the buckets.
*The over accessorized woman with a scarf tied around her leg (a trend I am happy to have missed), a wide belt around her waist, and another scarf wrapped around her neck (these Missourians are wimps).
*The overly prepared mom complete with stroller, grocery bag of snacks, bag of activities, and her mom to hold the place in line just in case
*The stressed out underprepared mom with two screaming kids hanging off of her
Oh wait, that last one was me. The whole thing was a bit of a clusterfuck . It started at one which is of course prime naptime for the under four set. Naptime is pretty darn sacred in our house but I was worried if we waited they would run out AND MY CHILDREN WOULD DIE or I would have to find a doctor and pay for it. You know, one of the two.
My brilliant plan was to head to the church after Kindermusik (a whole other post) then get the girls food and go get in line early so we could be the first to be misted up, then head home directly and nap. Good plan huh?
Except we never made it to Kindermusik because of all the aforementioned tantrums and a clothing strike by Desmonda Drama. So we were running late, then all the drive through lines were packed, and I got lost. So we ended up 215 in line with no food and no diaper bag (which is always stuffed with bribes). A to the Some. The girls hung off of me like monkeys while we waited in a line to get into the building. And damn was Desmonda not happy about not being allowed to enter. She kept running to the door and shouting "I want to go in" anytime it opened a crack.
Boy was she disappointed when we got inside to find... another line. That led into a room containing a mysterious roulette of tables where we had to sign statements we knew that the shot contained mercury. They hadn't. And after that the other moms stopped talking to me; even the one prepared one with snacks to share. Darn my paranoid nature.
After waiting for two hours, our table number came up on the roulette wheel and we were finally ushered to... another line. Finally we made it into an office where a nurse shot their noses full of viruses. Woo! Now they won't catch the dreaded swine flu. Of course all the side effects of the mist are the symptoms of the flu. But don't worry, the girls are fine. I, on the other hand, woke up today feeling like I had been run over by the fever-sneeze truck. I must be allergic to the general public.