What a difference a week, a day, an hour, a minute makes. This time last week I had spent a pleasant day at the air show with friends and ended that day with a few hours in the emergency room. Yep, I knew being the mother of boys I would have my share of trips to the emergency room but knowing and accepting that fact never prepares one for actually experiencing such an event.
Like I mentioned before we spent the morning at the air show with friends and thanks to RUNGE!! It was a beautiful day, on the warm side; to the point where every speck of shade found an occupant trying to escape the suns wrath. We were no different; there just never seems to be enough tanks sitting around when you need one to provide shade. We didn’t make it to the Thunderbirds and I was fine with that. The kids were hot, the boy was well…being his enjoyable self with complaints that the sun was shining, the wind was blowing, his baby brother was looking at him. It was time to go. We stopped for yummy ice cream on the way home and Jodie got the car unpacked in record time. I was gathering up the kids to head home, the boy and Landon were playing upstairs and I had to go drag him out of the train where he was hiding. We were walking down the stairs (do you see where this is going), the boy has a very bad habit of running to get in front of me, on his attempt get in front of me he tripped and tumbled down the stairs landing smack dab on the corner of the molding that was at the base of the stairs.
It was all slow motion for me. I saw the initial cut beneath his cheek, I was hoping it was superficial…then the blood started gushing out. Holy crap. Jodie came running over after hearing the ruckus and I told her to get a compress. By the time she got back I scooped up my 5o lbs son, she had the baby in the car and we were off to the emergency room lighening fast. Can this really happening? I held it together until we got to the emergency clinic then I lost it as I was giving my information to the lady at the window.
The doctor came in and cleaned the boy’s wound and gave him a topical so they could deaden his cheek with the real stuff that included a needle. The boy was pleading his case the entire time to not have a shot. I so wanted to reassure him he wouldn’t get one, I tried to distract him with conversation to no avail. We waited for a long time and the boy and I talked and he even napped. He looked so sad and my heart just hurt for him. I so wished I was the one laying there or somehow the pain could transfer to me. I cried as I looked at him even though I kept telling myself I had to be strong. Yeah…I wasn’t.
Nic came to get the baby and Jodie came in to stay with us. We called the hubby and he was on his way. Fortunately for the boy as a pillar of strength but unfortunately for the hubby he walked in while they were giving the boy shots to deaden the area on his cheek they were fixin to sew up. It took four…count em…FOUR of us to hold down the FOUR year old. He is freakin strong. FOUR. He was wringing with sweat when it was all said and done. It broke my heart. Six stitches later and the hubby was carrying him out to the car to head on home, I had to go get the baby from Jodie’s house, I knew he would be starving…oh the glass bottle I had broke earlier when we were unloading the car. Yeah…this is happening.
I had some time to decompress at Jodie’s, feeding the baby and talking with Nic and Jod before I headed home. I am so greatful for my friends. I don’t know what I would have done without them…EVER. As I began to come down from the adrenaline my body ached. I took a shower and the water from the shower hurt. My baby was hurt, I hurt.
I kept the boy home from school on Monday and we had a nice day together. Not as relaxed as I had hoped but we did meet Dad for lunch after we stopped by the pediatrician to make sure everything looked good. We go back on Monday to get the stitches out.
Tuesday I woke up feeling like crap…crappy crap crap. I either have a cold or a bad sinus infection. I decided to stay home to get well. I slept ALL DAY LONG.
Wednesday, I am at work and just before noon I get a phone call from the boy’s school and they ask me to come pick him up, he was out of control. The director asks me to come into her office and in walks the boy’s teacher. Can this really be happening? Did they just tell me to remove my son from their school? W-T-F!
I’m barely hanging on by a string over here and now this. I call the hubby and let him know what has transpired, I call our therapist for “what next” and I call work to let them know I won’t be in the rest of the week. I am spent.
Thursday we talk to KRK, the previous school the boy was attending and make arrangements for him to re-enroll and the hubby and I check out another private school in the area on Friday. The private school is awesome and it is something to consider for Kindergarten but they are full in the four year old class and bottom line, the boy is not ready.
The hubby and I decide the best thing the boy needs is a stable environment while we work on the therapy and the diet and focus on him in order to get him ready for kindergarten. I stop by KRK and talk to the owner to let him know of our plans and he is very supportive. Thank God.
The hubby thinks we are being tested…if so I hope it is for something better and not worse.
On the WOE front…I haven’t been on my game but with all the stress and the NOT eating I still managed to lose. Check the number on the right. Can this really be happening? You betcha!