I was easing myself gently into the day this morning - speed-buttering sandwiches, shouting 'PRACTICE YOUR DAMN VIOLIN OR I'M STOPPING THOSE LESSONS!', reading out a mental maths test unutterably slowly, usual stuff - when Maddy said 'today’s the day for injections at school but I am not having one’. I could feel that overload was imminent, so I took a break to pour someone’s left-over cereal into my mouth. I waited for a solution to occur; ‘Don’t be silly, Maddy, of course you are having the injection!’ I said - brilliant! Whereupon major fit from my second-born 'Don’t you care about me at all?!’
I’m not great at dilemmas when circling the kitchen like a goldfish just before school, but I do try to be reasonable. Maddy hyperventilated after the last injection(and I nearly did carrying her home), but injected she must be, so what to do?? I rang school while the chldren all talked to me about different things (‘SHUTUP EVERYONE – sorry, not you!!) who said I must come in to support my child through this traumatic situation (sub-text - if you have a heart, you mean old cow).
What they didn't appreciate was that my presence would give her the nerve to say 'No'. Should I schlep up to school to demonstrate to the medical team that I care about my daughter, but can't control her errant behaviour? Or should I not? They might keep a list of nasty mums at school, and I was sure to go on it!
Of course, I did what I was told, trudging into school (quite sulky) at the appointed time. I linked arms with Maddy when I saw her, and by holding her tight enough to stop the circulation, I was able to frog-march her into the torture chamber, teeth bared in a mad smile for the nurses who chatted away casually, Maddy poor love sweating with fear, me silently screaming 'GET ON WITH IT!' And...POW! It was done. ‘You brave, brave girl – you did it!’ I gasped, flooded with relief, hugging and kissing my girl. ‘I got a good nurse that time' she said, 'You owe me some Sensations’