Remember that time Lucas "swallowed" a brass peg?
Remember that other time Lucas pushed Ashlee and we had to have her forehead glued shut?
Remember how when both of those things happened, I wasn't actually supervising my kids? Instead, they were playing in our basement, unattended, both times.
You should also note that both times when I took each of my kids in to the pediatrician, we saw Dr. "R." Dr. R is the oldest doctor in our peds office and, despite the claims of other Moms I know, I really like Dr. R. He's seen a lot in his years of practicing medicine so I trust that what he says is usually right.
However, Dr. R always questions, to the detail, how mishaps happen in our family. When we took Lucas in Dr. R kept asking, "So did you see him swallow the peg?"
To which I had to answer, repeatedly, "No. I was upstairs and he was in the basement."
"Unattended?" Dr. R asks.
"Yes," I mummer, lowering my head in shame.
Then, just ONE WEEK later, I had Ashlee in the peds office and again, we see Dr. R. I mean, there are like 7 different doctors in that office. Seriously?
As Dr. R is looking at Ashlee's head he begins with the questioning. "So, how did she do this?"
"Well," I stammer, "I'm not exactly sure. She and her brother were playing in the basement and she hit her head on something, I'm not sure really. Maybe the floor or a toy..." I trail off.
"So, no one was with them?"
"No," I say, as Dr. R glues Ashlee's forehead together.
I'd like to proudly announce that we made it a WHOLE YEAR without having to endure Dr. R's questioning again. A whole 13 months actually, almost to the day.
Last night we broke our streak.
While I upstairs, I heard it. Aaron's first shriek came from the kitchen. I'll admit, I didn't run downstairs, mostly because Aaron cries. A lot. Over nothing mostly. He's a tough kid. He jumps off of things that make my heart stop and he can stick a landing better than most Olympic Medalists. He runs and dives face first in the yard on purpose, then giggles.
Yet, I wipe his nose and he cries for 3 minutes because "It hurt wite der." (Points to nostril) or he stubs his toe ON THE RUG and "Owwwwiiiiiieeeee. I hurt Mommy, wite der."
Seriously dude? Whatever.
Anyway, so I don't rush downstairs. But then, I hear it. That sorta silent gasping.
Uh oh.
Then Ashlee says, "Mom! Aaron's bleeding."
That could have been the understatement of the day. Or week. Or whole year.
I descend the stairs to find Ashlee escorting a bleeding, sobbing Aaron. His whole chin is blood. So much blood I can't tell where the bleeding is coming from.
I scoop him up and rush him to the sink. Blood is still pouring, literally, from his mouth. "Lucas, what happened? Tell me what happened!"
"Well, we were playing monkey and Aaron's mouth bonked my head," Lucas says sadly.
Mercy. So much blood. He's lost a tooth I bet. LOST A TOOTH.
Wipe, rise, wipe, rinse.
By now Aaron's pretty much stopped crying. I've soaked most of the blood out of his mouth and I finally find the source. It's not a lost tooth, instead it's a sizable gash on the inside of his upper lip.
He needs a stitch. I'm convinced.
Call the peds. 6:30pm appointment. Luke's meeting me there to switch off the other kids.
"Oh, and who's the doctor we'll be seeing?" I ask the receptionist as I begin looking for shoes for everyone.
"Dr. R." she states.
LOVELY.
-----
(PS: No stitches were needed.)
(PSS: 100 points to anyone who can name the source of the title for this post.)
Remember that other time Lucas pushed Ashlee and we had to have her forehead glued shut?
Remember how when both of those things happened, I wasn't actually supervising my kids? Instead, they were playing in our basement, unattended, both times.
You should also note that both times when I took each of my kids in to the pediatrician, we saw Dr. "R." Dr. R is the oldest doctor in our peds office and, despite the claims of other Moms I know, I really like Dr. R. He's seen a lot in his years of practicing medicine so I trust that what he says is usually right.
However, Dr. R always questions, to the detail, how mishaps happen in our family. When we took Lucas in Dr. R kept asking, "So did you see him swallow the peg?"
To which I had to answer, repeatedly, "No. I was upstairs and he was in the basement."
"Unattended?" Dr. R asks.
"Yes," I mummer, lowering my head in shame.
Then, just ONE WEEK later, I had Ashlee in the peds office and again, we see Dr. R. I mean, there are like 7 different doctors in that office. Seriously?
As Dr. R is looking at Ashlee's head he begins with the questioning. "So, how did she do this?"
"Well," I stammer, "I'm not exactly sure. She and her brother were playing in the basement and she hit her head on something, I'm not sure really. Maybe the floor or a toy..." I trail off.
"So, no one was with them?"
"No," I say, as Dr. R glues Ashlee's forehead together.
I'd like to proudly announce that we made it a WHOLE YEAR without having to endure Dr. R's questioning again. A whole 13 months actually, almost to the day.
Last night we broke our streak.
While I upstairs, I heard it. Aaron's first shriek came from the kitchen. I'll admit, I didn't run downstairs, mostly because Aaron cries. A lot. Over nothing mostly. He's a tough kid. He jumps off of things that make my heart stop and he can stick a landing better than most Olympic Medalists. He runs and dives face first in the yard on purpose, then giggles.
Yet, I wipe his nose and he cries for 3 minutes because "It hurt wite der." (Points to nostril) or he stubs his toe ON THE RUG and "Owwwwiiiiiieeeee. I hurt Mommy, wite der."
Seriously dude? Whatever.
Anyway, so I don't rush downstairs. But then, I hear it. That sorta silent gasping.
Uh oh.
Then Ashlee says, "Mom! Aaron's bleeding."
That could have been the understatement of the day. Or week. Or whole year.
I descend the stairs to find Ashlee escorting a bleeding, sobbing Aaron. His whole chin is blood. So much blood I can't tell where the bleeding is coming from.
I scoop him up and rush him to the sink. Blood is still pouring, literally, from his mouth. "Lucas, what happened? Tell me what happened!"
"Well, we were playing monkey and Aaron's mouth bonked my head," Lucas says sadly.
Mercy. So much blood. He's lost a tooth I bet. LOST A TOOTH.
Wipe, rise, wipe, rinse.
By now Aaron's pretty much stopped crying. I've soaked most of the blood out of his mouth and I finally find the source. It's not a lost tooth, instead it's a sizable gash on the inside of his upper lip.
He needs a stitch. I'm convinced.
Call the peds. 6:30pm appointment. Luke's meeting me there to switch off the other kids.
"Oh, and who's the doctor we'll be seeing?" I ask the receptionist as I begin looking for shoes for everyone.
"Dr. R." she states.
LOVELY.
-----
(PS: No stitches were needed.)
(PSS: 100 points to anyone who can name the source of the title for this post.)