My poor Henry got his four-month shots on Monday. It went almost exactly the same as his two-month shots. There's something about smiling and cooing at your baby who has no idea what's about to happen that makes you feel like a deceitful mother. The little needles poked him three times right in his delicious marshmallow thighs, and he gasped and looked at me with such betrayal and fear, and cried real, big, fat tears. He was smiling up at me and clutching my finger one moment, and then sobbing into my shoulder the next. I nursed him until he was happy, then pulled his pants over his legs with those little round bandaids, and buckled him in the carseat. And what does he do? He smiles at me. As if I didn't feel bad enough, he went and totally forgave and forgot almost immediately.
For the rest of the day (and even into the next day), he was tired. He ran a low fever just like with his 2-month shots, and wanted to be held. Conrad came home from work and snuggled him, and Henry fell asleep in his arms while we were eating dinner. That never happens. Anyway, he's feeling much better (I think I'm more emotionally damaged from the whole thing than he was). We're having fun making some changes around the house, getting some projects moving forward for 25 projects and the upcoming shop. Hope everyone's week is going well!