The deed is not yet done

Yesterday was supposed to be Quit Day. Instead it became "Fiona got three shots and the ensuing drama lasted the rest of the day because she was acting like we tried to kill her" day. Both of the girls had checkups yesterday. Fiona continues to be our little shorty and is in the 35th percentile* for height. The doctor described her as "sturdy." Amelia is in the 70th percentile for height and the 40th for weight, my string bean. The doctor thought both girls were doing great. Then came time for the shots. Fiona was prepared for one shot, but the doctor wanted to do three. Uh oh. She did great for the first one, the tears started after the second one, the wailing after the third. Then she watched Amelia get her shots so she saw exactly what had been done to her. Hysteria. She cried while I got Amelia dressed, cried while I made A's next appointment, cried as we walked to the car, cried as she got buckled in. As we pulled away she said (sobbing), "When we get home you have to carry me up the stairs and lay me in my bed and put my blanket on me and (heaving sobs) get me a sippy cup of milk, because (wailing) I GOT THREE SHOTS IN MY ARM!" I'm of the stiff upper lip category myself so the drama took me a bit by surprise. We didn't end up going to my work because I didn't want to drag the wailing, snot-streaming girl with me.

So of course, I didn't sleep at all last night fretting about it. I just need to get this over with.

*I think those are the right percentiles. If not, they're close.