Baby Proofing

I'm not talking about plastic covers on electric outlets.

No.  I am discussing something infinitely more personal, something requiring a needle and medicinal fluids and my arm.

Apparently, anyone who wants to be around a Chicago-land baby must be inoculated against whooping cough.  For the same price, they throw some anti-tetanus stuff into the same vial.  There's no co-pay, insurance takes care of it, and we were out of the office with a wave of the Check Out Here lady's hand.

Little Cuter had another totally uneventful visit with the world's-most-wonderful-obstetrician, maintaining her status as the healthiest mother-to-be I know.  She's a delightfully compliant daughter, who understands her mother's unexpressed but fervent desire to know the facts; the phone rings as they're driving the four minutes home from the office.  This time, though, the doctor had a message for the grandparents.  Anyone who is coming into close contact with the new baby must have an up-to-date whooping cough vaccination.

We called the office first thing the next morning and went in two days later, together, sitting side-by-side in the office as the Physician's Assistant for TBG's doctor wondered which arm we wanted to suffer some soreness for a few days. With barely a pinch, with no awful hot prickly feeling, with laughter about FlapJilly and Little Cuter and SIR and the delightfulness of buying baby presents, the whole experience was one big smile.

It's the first time I'd ever heard of this precaution.  Little Cuter is protective of the air she and her baby girl are breathing - just ask the teen who blew cigarette smoke in her face on a city street. I remember how I quailed as the exhaust from a city bus wafted over Big Cuter's Aprica stroller thirty some years ago.  We try to protect them from everything we can see, because there is so much which is lurking just out of sight.

Moms are hard wired to worry - remember that bird nesting in my vinca?  Protection was her intention; she wanted me away and she wanted me away now.  I got the message.  Those little babies paraded across the courtyard earlier this week, mom in front, dad behind and then up on the pony wall, surveying the scene.

I can hardly wait for August 1st.  I am now fully protected and prepared.