Can I Get a MEDIC????

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