Blood? No one said anything about blood.

After collecting SS's sample, we did a happy dance (SS was yelling "YAY SS!"), I placed it in the refrigerator, and we headed to the lab.  During the drive I wondered what the hell I was thinking, going without P.  There were going to be tears, I should have brought back up.  Since it was our first time in this lab, I did not know what to expect, and did not want to risk ruining the sample by having it fry in the van. There is no way we want an urinalysis repeat anytime soon.  There were only five people ahead of us,  but appointments take precedence over walk ins, so I had no idea how long we were going to wait.

The folks at this Quest lab were awesome. We were seen in about ten minutes, and it only took that long because the intake person (also a lab tech) was helping an elderly woman arrange transportation home. When I saw the tech, G, I wondered if he was going to intimidate SS. When we were called in, much to my surprise, the intake woman joined us.  As soon as SS saw the blue chair she recoiled, hung on to me, and said, "No Mama, blue chair, needles." Another less than stellar moment in parenting. While SS had never been on the blue chair, she has had more experience than most, because of her defective Mama. Shoot, made me angry at myself for dragging her along all those times..

G and the female tech (ashamed I did not catch her name) were very gentle. First, they went over the guidelines for the absolute minimum blood needed, because they were worried about SS's weight. They were surprised at her slim arms, and the woman stated she had never drawn from such a slim arm. OK, that did not make me feel confident. She commented that even infants usually have chubbier arms. Yeah, yeah, our daughter is petite, not a damn thing we can do about it.

SS sat on my lap, and each tech applied a tourniquet to an arm.  This made SS begin to whimper, but they were very gentle, and reassured her.  Unlike her Mama, SS has really good veins, they had their pick of two very clear ones in each arm. I have been around hospitals and medical clinics since I was a child, and not much makes me squirm. P is still surprised about my stoicism when JJ was in the ICU (although I was dying and scared sh*tless inside). But at that moment, with SS scared on my lap, I wanted out. I did not want to be the one holding her while she cried, while she was scared.  I wanted to close my eyes, and let the nice techs do their job. It lasted for about two seconds, before I realized that I was behaving like a first class coward. I signed up for this, I looked forward to parenting SS, the good, the  bad, and the ugly.

SS cried when she saw the needle, and when it was inserted, but calmed down when I told her how proud I was of her. The techs also praised her for being so strong and brave. It's a sure thing, flattery works with SS and I am not ashamed to use it. I reminded her that she would get a treat after we delivered her sample to Dr. B's office.  The techs asked what she wanted as a treat, and were bombarded with talk about Ninja Legos. Turns out the female clerk has a five year old son who is crazy about Legos, and has been talking about the Ninja ones.  SS confidently told her that they are sold at T@rget, and she looked at me asking if that was the case. Huh? I had no idea, but it looked like that is where we were heading. SS showed her The Scar (girl is getting a LOT of mileage out of that one), and not only is her son a Ninja Lego fan, but he busted his chin, same place as SS, had five stitches, that were due to be removed yesterday afternoon. Cousin H, SS and this little boy... What's the deal with busted chins?

First stop was getting SS some French toast dips, since she had been fasting for the draw.  There was a T@rget conveniently located across the street from Dr. B's office. SS has a built in GPS, because as we walked in, she told me how to find the toy section. It was so funny being led around by SS, but darn it, she found the toy area in record time.  Much to my surprise she bypassed the large, expensive ones, and headed straight to the small Lego Ninja. It was well worth the price.

Next on the agenda, SS's eye doctor appointment, and a dental appointment on August 6. According to Dr. Google, five year olds can see 20/25 or better. The referral is now making sense, but dreading glasses for SS. The girl loses even her beloved Dog on a daily basis (that is why there are three Dogs), can't imagine running around looking for her glasses.  Also, good luck finding frames that fit SS's non existent nose bridge.

Huh? We are going where to do what to me?

Poor thing, no idea what awaits.

All smiles after she was asked what kind of treat she was getting.

I was relieved to find that they had a reasonably priced Ninja Lego. SS is now more into the figures than building. While walking through T@rget I realized that if Abuela bought me a toy every time I was sick, or had a needle stuck in me, she would have had to file for bankruptcy by the time I was SS's age.

I find it hard to believe that 14 year olds are into this stuff.

She assembled her Ninja in no time, and played with it until she fell asleep. She is playing with him now as I type. That little dude came loaded with 7 weapons, no way we'll get through airport security with him.

SS was making a lot of funky faces yesterday afternoon. When P asked why all the faces, SS responded that he used to make those faces at her when she was a baby. I know I was jet lagged for a long time, and sleep deprived ever since, but I don't recall P making those faces at SS. I guess she felt entitled to literary license after having blood sucked out of her.