Week Nine: The Shots Heard 'Round the World

Cass had his two-month shots Thursday--four of them, right n his chubby little legs. Saying it was unpleasant is a grotesque understatement. Ryan stayed in the room with Cass, while I cried outside in the hallway. He said the little guy was a champ though. Just one heart-piercing, high-pitched shriek sharp enough to cut glass, a series of air-gasping sobs, and his first real crocodile tears.

But the fun didn't stop there. By Sunday morning, his side effects were weird enough to merit a panicked visit to ER. He refused to eat and had clammy palms and feet. After a battery of tests and a failed attempt at a bottle full of pedialite, they sent him home with a tag around his ankle reading "fussy," and chalked it up to still feeling "icky" from his shots. The fun part: watching him develop an insatiable appetite for baby tylenol. He wouldn't eat for bumpkes, but give him a squirt of the cherry stuff, and he became instantly ravenous--in that creepy, wild-eyed kind of way.





Hey people, relax. I'm just trying to maintain my slim physique. You think chubby babies can pull of this mod, retro pattern? Um...no.





















Just try to take away my sweet cherry syrup. I will punch you in the face.