Happy Endings

With flu season lurking around the corner, no doubt droves of parents will be taking their kids for flu shots (which I believe in, much to the chagrin of my children). Two years ago I found myself on my own for flu shots for five. Emma (see story below) was wailing and flailing. Older sister, Mary volunteered to go first to show Emma it wasn't that bad. Toddler Dorothy was busy peeling off the Band-aids that the nurse had lined up on the table. I asked my 16-year-old Bethany to go stand by Mary, as I could tell she was nervous. The nurse thumped the syringe; Bethany looked at the needle, then looked at me and said, "Mom, I don't feel so good." Then she fainted. Emma was still wailing, Dorothy was still peeling Band-aids and Bethany was out cold. It was the most humorous flu shot trip I've ever experienced.

This piece originally appeared in the newsletter Focus on Your Child (www.family.org).

When the time came to get flu shots for my kids last fall, I knew I would meet protests. I had no inkling, however, of how it would affect my 4-year-old, Emma. Hours after the shot, she was still in tears. Three days later, something triggered her memory of the shot and we were right back to square one. After a week, she seemed to have forgotten about it--until she watched the movie Beethoven.

At the end of the film, the "bad guy" gets what's coming to him in the form of 20 plus syringes being knocked off a table and into his stomach. Of all the things for Emma to see! She cried for hours, days even. We were farther back than square one.

Finally, an idea came to me that I had used as a child.

"Emma, when Mommy was little and I had scary thoughts in my mind," I explained, "I would change the ending to something funny."

No response, so I pressed on. "Let's pretend that instead of needles, it was feathers sticking out of those shots, and when they hit that man in the stomach, the feathers tickled him so much that he couldn't stop laughing!"

Her crying shifted to a whine; I could tell I had her attention.

"Or how about chocolate syrup? Or mustard?" I continued, grasping for ideas.

"Or macaroni and cheese!" she said with a triumphant giggle.

We spent the next few minutes thinking of more possibilities; then she skipped away to play.

A few days later, her 6-year-old sister, Mary, had a bad dream, and I tried the idea again. It brought the same results, turning tears into giggles.

Now, whenever one of my small children can't rid their minds of menacing thoughts, we think of happy endings until their fears disappear.