Back To School.......has been torture thus far.......

Well as much as I am dreading it, Braxty-boy is starting school this year. Yes, I still want him to be my baby boy, and yes he will always be my baby boy, just like Hoss-man will always be my baby boy, but the years are flying by, and I just want time to slow down because I want them to remain innocent.

(whew that was a mouthful)

So now is all the rushing of getting school supplies, getting school clothes, and for Braxty-boy getting physicals, dental exams, and his shots updated....this is the not so fun part.

Went for his physical last month, and the Dr had to write a script for his hemoglobin and lead testing because they don't perform those labs in his office. So last Tuesday we went to the health department, with our little script in tow. We took it to the window and the lady at the desk said, "Mom, do you have his shot record with you?" and I did, so I gave it to her and she gave me this horrible look. She said "Um, he will need 5 shots today, if you took him for his four year check up he should of gotten them. Did you take him for that check up?" I replied "Yes" she went on to say that she didn't know why they did immunize him then. (could of been because their nurse quit that morning, and the Dr was doing the best he could) Of course, for once I kept my mouth shut, I know it's surprising!

Anyway after about an hour of sitting in the lobby they called us back. The nurse pricked his finger, and he was such a big boy about it, he just said "HEY, that hurts!" So I went on to tell him she wanted to see how many drops of blood he had in his finger, and he was content with that. Then she told us to follow her across the hall, and had him sit in my lap facing away from her. Three shots in his right arm, of course as soon as she stuck him with the first shot he began to cry. Now I knew he was going to cry, and I was prepared to let him cry, he was intitled that much. So finally she gets done with the third shot, and tell him to sit facing her this time, well now he can see the shots that were left to be given. Now this is the part I was not prepared for. Braxty-boy began to beg me to tell her to stop "poking" him, and then with is pittiful sobbing and sucking wind he is screaming "Make her stop MOM MOM make her stop poking me" "Oh MOM MOM IT HURTS TELL HER THATS ENOUGH ALREADY" Well surprise surprise! I started bawling too, and kissing his little forehead, he expected me to protect him and I couldn't ( I mean yes technically I was protecting him from mumps, measels, rubella, tetnus, hepetitis A, and the chicken pox). So she gets finished FINALLY! and Braxty-boy jumps up and has me weigh him, and wants to see a Dr now, and I am tryin to stop crying and tell him we aren't gonnna see a Dr. today. So on our way out, I tell him, "Yaknow, you were such a big boy in there we are going to stop and get you a prize" and his reply was "Yea Momma, cuz I stopped crying before you did"

Dammit, when did he get so smart???

Well we stopped at Orshelins because the freaking ants are trying to carry us away, not sure where they are going to take us, so they HAD to be stopped! I mean what if there isn't any internet there? I would go insane. So on our little quest to find the most baddass ant killer ever, Braxty-boy was chatting with Taffy on my cell phone (yaknow telling her about all his shots and getttin all the blood sucked out of his finger) he walks over to their baby chickens and says "Oh I want a chicken" and Taffy being the friend that she is, told him he could have one because she said so. So he picked out him and bub bub a chicken, actually they were guinneas....but chickens to him. So we bring our chickens home, and his Daddy put them in a big box, we got some chicken food and some water, and were all set....or so we thought.

Well only to add to Braxty-boy horrible Tuesday, he woke up Wednesday with two sore arms, and two dead chickens.

Whoopsie! Apparently we aren't very good chicken farmers.

SORRY BABY CHICKENS!!!!!

*The baby chickens should blame Taffy for their untimely death, it's her fault we brought them home in the first place!*