Jaded

Emmett has been interacting with people a lot more of late. Today, he and I were on the way to Andrea's school with him in the ergo on my chest, and we passed a couple who was discussing something that made the woman laugh. Emmett started to laugh too as he has found that him laughing and someone else laughing is his best means of communicating at this point (unless, of course, the person he is talking with would like to discuss lights). Laughing is not his only means of communication, however, as his other trusty tool has been the wave which usually gets a response from others. In fact, Emmett has taken to leaning far to one side when being carried on our chests in the ergo so he can see who is walking behind us and will wave to them under our arms. It is a little embarrassing as he waves a lot and one never knows if the person behind you enjoys the game or not, but it keeps him happy.

Emmett often seems to get positive responses from people when he waves or laughs, and I hate to say it, but I feel a little bad for him the times that someone doesn't notice that he has waves or ignores his laugh at him. I suppose he has to get used to the cruel world we live in, but it is hard to watch as a parent.

Today, however, Emmett got very badly mixed messages from a seemingly friendly interaction. Today Emmett got his blood drawn. As I mentioned previously, the doctor wanted Emmett's lead levels checked in his blood as we live in an old house that no doubt has layers of paint with lead. We didn't have much going on today, so I took him over to the blood-taking shop on foot. The walk was very nice with Emmett in a really good mood and laughing as I carried him about half the trip on my shoulders. When we arrived he was charming the phlebotomists and the couple of people in the waiting room by laughing and waving. Our pediatrician had warned that this would be a difficult trip as the pudge on Emmett's arms make it very hard to find a vein, and the phlebotomist echoed the same thing. To ready ourselves I had Emmett in my lap facing the soon-torturer and he was all giggles while she raised his sleeves and initiated the search for a vein. The right arm showed nothing but she found the left cubital fossa's (second use in the blog) vein which I couldn't see at all, and there was hope of a non-miserable visit. The blood-drawer called upon an apprentice fearing Emmett would start wailing and jerking around when the needle went in and the two ladies (needle and support) were hamming it up with Emmett as they applied alcohol to the spot and prepared all equipment. Emmett was all laughs, too, until the needle went in and a look went over his face like his pleasure drive had been cut short by a sudden plunging off of a cliff. He didn't cry, but rather seemed confused at what was taking place. Unfortunately paydirt was not struck and the needle needed to be withdrawn and plunged again. This required a new needle and a reapplication of alcohol (which on an open wound, our phlebotomist told Emmett, was going to sting). The ladies tried the same laughing games that had worked so well a minute before, but Emmett now had fear on his face. They quickly put the needle in again, this time striking gold, and Emmett began to cry at being wronged a second time. He didn't wail, just cried, but it was all over relatively quickly and when we left from behind the 6 foot partition that separated us from the waiting room, the patients all applauded him for doing as well as he did (the phlebotomists said he did very good for two pokes, too).

Emmett was a little whiney on the walk home and it was definitely not as fun as it was on the way there. I couldn't help feeling like something had changed inside of him with this experience. Additionally, he was a little lethargic this evening---no doubt in part due to losing two vials of blood. Hopefully he will forget what happened today and will still want to reach out to others. At least in the end he got a sticker: