When Mary Grace got her first shots I cried as much as she did. I took her home, put her in her coziest jammies (at 11 am) and we laid in my bed all day watching daytime TV (me) and nursing our blues away (her). I didn't leave the house for two days. I did this every time she got shots.
Jack got his first set of shots today. I teared up a little. After the doctor's appointment we picked up MG, then BJ, then our friend Wright and we took Wright to the airport (about an hour, hour and 15 minute drive - much longer if you count the time in the car running around to pick everyone up), then we went out for lunch at a fairly grown-up sit-down restaurant (a microbrewery - while we have seen kids there, I didn't see any other kids today), and then we spent the afternoon with Shannyn and her boys at the Children's Museum. We got home around 6, and Grandpa brought dinner over. Then I bathed the girls while BJ held Jack. He started to cry so I finished up an e-mail before I came down and BJ went on bedtime duty.
And that, my friends, is the fundamental difference between the first child experience and the third child experience. (The Claire experience was about halfway between these extremes - more crying than with Jack, but less taking-to-the-bed-with-the-vapours than Mary Grace).
Sometimes I wish I could go back 5 years and smack myself.
(Jack weighs 10 pounds, 12 ounces, and is doing great - our doctor has no concerns. YAY!)