Friday, July 9, 2010

Boo-Boo(s) and how Jack broke us in.

Definitely plural.

I gave Jack a shower this afternoon and noticed a few new cuts and scrapes on him. One good-sized one on his knee and two on his foot. I asked him how they got there.

me: Jack, what happened to your knee? Was that from yesterday when you fell at the park?
Jack: I didn't fall yesterday.
me: Yes, you did. Remember you saw the school bus and started running and then you fell? (I was there, so I know!)
Jack: Nope. I didn't run.
me: Sigh, anyway where did this cut come from?
Jack: I fell today when I was on my hike with Daddy. I remember when I get hurt.
me: What about those two cuts on your foot?
Jack: That's from being in the pool yesterday.
me: But you didn't tell me about it while we were at the pool.
Jack: I didn't want to stop swimming and you always make me get a band-aid.
me: Ah.

So then I started thinking about how many bruises Jack has on a normal day. Oh, maybe 10 or 12 on a good day. No really, he IS that clumsy.

And THEN I started to think back on all of his injuries; the small ones and not-so-small ones.

Like the time he fell when he was two and needed 10 stitches across his forehead. This is not the call you want to get from your daycare provider. It's any Mom's worst fear. In the ER it literally took 4 adults to hold down one small child, who turned into a very good resemblance of the Exorcist image we are all familiar with, while the plastic surgeon put his forehead back together. I tell you, once you live through that, anything else seems trivial in comparison.
me: What's that? You fell? Any blood? No? You're fiiiinnnneeee. (You continue flipping through your magazine.)

And who could forget the first time he tried a cashew when he was three and a half and within about 3 minutes needed to be rushed to the hospital. I get the shakes just remembering that day. Now he's fated to a lifetime of Epi-Pens. Just remember, after the 2nd trip to the ER, they begin to ask questions. It's standard procedure.

Should I go on? Do any of you have a boy like this? Do tell!

Some more hot topics for next time:
"How Jack tripped and fell when he was 2, while wearing Mommy's sneakers, and put his teeth clear through his bottom lip, causing Mommy to miss a very important meeting!"

Dennis and I are broken. We'll be the first to admit it. Jack can run like a maniac across the pavement, take a nose dive, skid for 10 feet and leave a trail of tattered clothing, and maybe, just maybe, we'll get up and go to his assistance. We wait. No crying? No screaming? No blood? All is well. Even Jack has learned to deal with his ... uh... forward momentum issues. He gets up, looks around, wonders how he got where he ended up, shakes his head, and continues on his way. Usually at a run.

No comments:

Post a Comment