Dear Terps,
I am writing this to you using a very appropriate color to describe the events that have transpired this week. This may bore you as it is largely about kid trauma, or it may just make you giddy that you have no kids...Either way, here goes...
Monday afternoon, I came home from work, and Confusia Jr. (CJ) told me that sh'es going to be hanging out in her room by herself most of the evening because she has to rest up and relax to prepare for the TAKS test which begins Tuesday. I bought it. Later that evening, we went up to Wal-Mart for cat food or something, and we decided to eat at Subway because it was getting late. I asked CJ something, and she responded with her hand in her mouth. I was like, "WTH?" So I said, "CJ, take your hand out of your mouth. I can't understand you." She said, "Why?" I said, "I can't understand you." She again said, "Why?" I said, "Because I said so. How's that?" Very slowly, she took her hand out of her mouth, and everything became clear. She had a large, gnarly safety pin hanging out of her lip. Yes, my twelve-year old had brilliantly decided to pierce her lower lip with a nasty, old safety pin before I got home from work. I said, "Out. Take it out." She tried to argue, then she took off for the bathroom. I followed and made sure she took it out. Gross. Good God!!! Anyway, afterwards, I was talking about it with Alan (I will explain more on that later) he suggested that we let her leave it in. He said, "If it's a matter of choosing your battles, well, so she leaves it in, it gets infected, she learns her lesson... If you make it into an issue, it's just going to make her want it even more." Well, I saw the sense in that, so I told her she could choose to leave it in for at least a week, or be grounded for a week. She chose to leave it in for a week. Of course, her school made her take it out, so she's been taking it out and putting it back in. She began begging us to get her a post so it would be permanent. I was considering caving in on it, but last night she came to me and said, "Mom. I really want to take it out. It hurts, and I think it's infected. I'm really, really sorry, and I won't ever do it again. I promise." I was so relieved to hear the thing was going away, I didn't have the heart to ground her. I've been making fun of it as much as possible so she might decide to get rid of it. Her nickname this week has been "Freakshow". ha ha Anyway, I'm very happy this thing has been settled, and I can look at CJ again without vomiting in my mouth. Just the thought of her sticking a safety pin all the way through her lower lip freaks me out. BLURGHGHGHGH.
Wednesday morning, I put the baby in her carseat, and walk her across the yard to the babysitter. Because we weren't going in the car, I didn't strap her in. Now, most days, we do go in the car so she is strapped in...but not that day. The babysitter didn't realize she wasn't strapped in as she had a blanket over her. She put the carseat, with baby in it, on a little kiddie table so she could feed her oatmeal. Baby sat up, car seat tipped over, baby fell out onto floor and got a gash in her head. Babysitter freaked out, sent her son to get me. I came, freaked out, rushed baby to the ER. I am the worst mother ever. The babysitter was crying. I called Alan to come to the ER which is right next door to his work. He was up there with me and the baby. She had to have a CAT scan, which came out normal, and then she had to get four stitches in the top of her head. This is the first time I've ever been responsible for an injury to one of my kids. I felt so terrible about it. On the other hand, I know how blessed we were, and how bad it MIGHT have been. There will be a scar, but her hair will cover it up. She didn't get a concussion, or break her neck. It could have been so much worse. She will never be in that carseat without being firmly strapped in again...I don't care if the carseat is resting on a pile of clouds that's covering a mound of fluffy cotton. It was so sad to see such a little thing getting a shot in her head, and having to be stitched up. She is totally getting a free pass on something when she's a teenager. One free pass. "Okay, you pierced your lip? Well, I did cause that head injury when you were a baby, so let's take you to get a diamond studded post...Would you like a matching tattoo? No, seriously, whatever you want...just pick it out and tell me." Poor little thing. She's still just smiling away. Talk about rubbing the guilt in to me...
So that was yesterday morning. Yesterday evening, CJ dropped a glass on the kitchen floor, and it broke. As I was cleaning up her nasty, pus-filled lip, thinking that she'd cleaned up the glass, her brother went flying through the kitchen, and cut his toe on a piece of the glass that she had, in fact, NOT cleaned up. I was confronted with a hysterical, five year old boy whose foot was bleeding PROFUSELY all over the floor. "Mommy! Is all my blood going to come out?" he asked while big teardrops rolled down his chubby little cheeks. I assured him that it wouldn't. I put CJ and her pus-filled lip hole to the side, and mopped him up. It turned out to be the tiniest scratch. I don't know how it bled so dang much! Unbelievable! So, yeah, I need a medic. I need one to come live with me so I don't have to deal with things like this because the fact is, I suck at this. Pus, gashes, blood, needles=VOMIT!!! I'm like, "Oh, you cut your foot off? Let me hand you the hydrogen peroxide. Let me know when you're done." "What? You stuck your hand in a fire and have 3rd degree burns? Uh, I know I've got some triple-antibiotic around here somewhere. You're gonna take it and just dab some on with a Q-tip. Let me know when you're done." Neat-O.
Love, Confusia
Dear Confusia,
Please never make me read anything like that again.
Thanks,
Terps
ha ha ha ha Everyone's recovering nicely, though.-Confusia
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3 comments:
Maybe these memories of mine will restore the shine to your halo, as maybe I am a MORE terrible mom, lol!
When Anya was born, Ian became very clingy. That, coupled with PPD, and I was an exhausted mess. Anyway, once when I took Ian to swim lessons, I took Anya out of her seat to feed he, then put her back in - without strapping her in. It was hot in that pool area! When it was time to go, I just pulled the seat cover over her and went to the car. I popped her in, strapped Ian in, and drove 10 miles home in rush hour traffic!!! I felt like shit when I went to unstrap her and saw what I'd done.
My other "mother-of-the-year" episode was when Anya was 20 months old. Her school called to tell me that she fell off a piece of playground equipment, but seemed fine. There was no bruise or abrasion, but she was limping so I gave her motrin. A few days of starting each one with a mild limp, but being in extreme pain and begging to be carried by the end of each one, and I decided to call the doc. He agreed that with no marks, she'd probably bruised a muscle - keep up the motrin. At 7 days, I was concerned that maybe her leg was slightly out of the socket or something, so I took her in. He checked her out and found nothing. On day 10 I took her to the pediatric ER. Imagine my horror when the nurse held up a range of smiley faces and explained to Anya what they all meant. It was the kid version of, "rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10." Anya pointed to the 8 face! I was miserable. Turned out she had a broken leg! There's on bone in your leg that isn't totally weight-bearing. Hers was bent at a nearly 90 degree angle. Mommy dearest, I am...
Don't sweat the baby accident too much, C. Happens to the best of us. We forgot to strap my daughter into her high chair once and she slid out under the tray and all the way down the front of it, bump bump bump all the way down and landed HARD on her little tush. Worst part was, the Mrs. and I just sat there watching it happen, frozen in shock.
She didn't have a broken leg, though. I'm calling DFACS on Regan.
Regan,
I totally understand about the carseat incident. When Isaac was two, I was driving down the freeway (fortunately there was traffic so we were crawling) I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him standing up. I pulled over right away. When I put him in the car, I'd buckled the seat into the car, but not him into the seat..WTF?? Not only had I not strapped him into his carseat, I'd also left the door unlocked. I "What if'd" myself to death over that one.
It's totally not your fault about the broken leg, though. You were calling the doctor, and even he agreed!
Cary,
Time totally just seems to freeze in a situation like that...When I was a teenager, my parents had the bright idea to put my half sister and half brother in the high chair together as they were the same age and same size. I remember seeing them one second, smiling and babbling together..the next, the high chair fell over backwards. There one second, gone the next. They weren't hurt at all, but they were VERY upset..I can laugh about it because they're my siblings..ha ha ha Not one of my parents better ideas, though...
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