This is what I started to post over coffee this morning... read on for the "real" post below that...
Oh, I really hate blogging in the morning. The whole day is stretched out in front of me, clean and unfettered like new stationery (one of my many addictions). I'm not feeling terribly contemplative, or creative. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet... and all I can usually pull off is a laundry list of things to get done for the day. Bet that's fun blogrunning, eh? But today, I am not going to do that.
The big news (and I think the only folks who will truly share in this joy are other women who've done this), I am back. in. drag. Yes! This morning I donned a pair of Zorak's jeans, and am dressed like your average country transvestite ready for a day of work! (Yes, *his* jeans. Because it will be another year before I can get into *mine*, but let's ignore that part, shall we? He's lean. It counts.) I'm not a frou-frou woman, by any stretch of the imagination, but I've gotta say it does feel good to don support garments and run a brush through my hair! Yup, nice way to start the day, that whole personal hygiene thing...
James had a dentist appointment this morning... at eight o'clock. This is the second one in two days that I scheduled at that hour. Proof that women that close to birthing should not be allowed out in public, eh? WHAT was I thinking? Anyhow, Zorak took him (after confirming that it wasn't going to be anything like John's extensive work yesterday - it's going to take a while for Zorak to recover from that) and then will keep him at work today. I've got the three Littles with me for the day.
Um, yeah, that was at nine o'clock this morning. I typed the above, then got up to get a cup of coffee, switch out a load of wash, and check on John and Smidge, who were outside playing in the yard. I got the coffee. Then I heard screaming. Wailing. Thumping and gnashing.
I bolted to the front door and opened it to see John standing at the door, blood-spattered and screaming. He was cradling his arm, and completely hysterical. I hauled him into the house and ushered him to the bathroom to rinse off the blood and ascertain the situation. Well, I'm not an "every little gash needs stitches" kind of Mom. I really believe a little scarring won't hurt, and for the most part you just band-aid the thing together and admonish the child not to move it or it'll scar. Done.
This was not one of those situations. I took one look, did a full-body shudder, wrapped the thumb in a towel and told him to load up, we're going to the hospital. Amidst trying to find a carseat for Em (Zorak has the pickup today, which has the other small carseat in it), grabbing diapers, insurance cards, and making phone calls, John relayed the story to me. Poor little guy was trying to split firewood and he got his thumb with the hatchet. All I could do was hug him and thank him for being upfront and honest. We'll deal with the other questions and issues when the blood congeals, ya know.
So, five long and hungry hours, one truly phenomenal physician, one cranky childless LPN and two great mom RNs later... we're home with five stitches and one mighty impressive dressing, as well as antibiotics and pain killers. I'm being good and staying out of the pain killers.
John was a total trooper. Brave. Honest. Attentive. I am so proud of him. He was terrified until the nerve block kicked in, then he was very matter-of-fact about the process. I asked if he wanted the doctor to give him webbed fingers while he was working and he said, "Honestly, Mom, I just want him to fix my thumb." Ah, well, can't blame ya for that!
Who needs a to-do list when you have children?
Kiss those babies! I'm going to snuggle my little lumberjack.
~Dy
15 comments:
Again! Again I am crying!!! Those pictures! Little girl that I love so much! Oh, it's too much for me!
ROFL at you staying out of the painkillers. Been there. Done that!
Poor little guy, we'll pray for him tonight.
Oh and BTW, it's called Drag Chic, it's the latest craze of all post-partum women. Another BTDT!
Hugs!
Oh my gosh, Dy! I read the second half of your entry in hand-over-mouth-gasping position. I think it is a testament to your gifts as a writer, but your family is real to me, even though I've never met you, and I was So Worried about John! (Also, blood makes me queasy.) I am so glad they were able to fix him, and I am so impressed by what a brave little guy he is! And he was trying to help out with the wood, too.
I do remember being pleased by being able to wear my husband's jeans after my kids were born, but it sure wasn't two days after. (And my dh isn't all that lean, either!)
I hope those pain killers work well for your little sweetie.
Cordially,
Melora
Oh the poor little guy! It sounds like he handled it well. How is mom handling it? ;)
Usually stuff like that kicks me into "what do I need to do to fix this right.now." mode and I become superwoman, calm and orderly, yet with a mission.
Until we get home from the stitches/shots/slings/casts/whatever. Then it hits me and I take a brief moment to freak out about the what-if's.
Ahhhh...life with children. There's no better way to get a little excitement! ;)
Oh! Ow, ow ow! Oh my, what a day. Glad you're home and able to snuggle; I hope the rest of the day and evening are completely boring and uneventful!
Oh my goodness!!!! How scary, I can't even imagine. I was freaking out just reading this! I hope everything heals okay and that John learned his lesson about playing with sharp objects. I think I had three heart attacks while reading this story. I will definitely go and kiss my babies right now, and make sure they are far away from the hatchets!!!!
Oh, Dy! Here I leave for the beach while you are in labor and when I return you're already blogging pictures and stories and racing off to emergency rooms! Beautiful baby! And I keep having to wonder if YOU are for real. You're a real role model for handling life as a mom.And I mean it!
BTW, don't let the nickname BeeBee stick. My middle child was dubbed that by his big brother and and now he's called that by lots of people! Must run,sending good energies! Marcella
I'm so sorry for your little guy, Dy. He's such a trooper and so are you! I was completely shocked to find out it was from a hatchet!
I'll be praying that he recovers quickly with little to no pain! I hope you all get some rest this evening/weekend.
I'm being good and staying out of the pain killers.
That's why I had my kids in the hospital; they have nice people that bring pain killers right to your bed.
I'm so glad your little guy is okay. What a trooper! (You AND him.)
Staci
Oh, my. All my best to your brave lumberjack. We've had our share of, "Oh, golly, forget the bandaids. IN THE CAR" bloody moments. May that thumb heal well, and all of you have some thoroughly "boring" days at home!
Warmly,
Diane
Just what you need with a new baby in the house...a trip to the ER. I hope your lumberjack feels better soon.
What a day! I hope his thumb heals quickly-- I bet he had quite a story to tell his brother and dad when they got home! : ) I can't believe you managed to find other carseats like that! Very impressive--I know I couldn't have! If Bob takes the minivan, we're all in trouble!
Oh my goodness! I can just see my oldest, also 7, doing something like that to be helpful. She's always biting off more than she can chew -- in the best of intentions! There is something to be said for suburban living -- no wood waiting around to be split!!! I'm glad it was 'just' a gash and that all is well.
See how important *all* our kids are? The dynamics would have been completely different if James was home and able to squeal on John before the incident eh? Or at least that's how it would work in our home. Change the dynamics and you don't know what you'll get! *shudder* I always feel so "off" when Ryans in choir.
I'm so sorry John got hurt and that you had to venture out in public with all of them so close to birth - ick.
Love you! We'll survive, I promise.
Oh, no! Screaming, wailing, thumping and gnashing are never good when combined into a single moment.
As always, you handled it better than ever.
Hope everyone is feeling better.
Crissy
I related John's story of blood and stitches to Q. All he could muster was a wide-eyed "WOW!"
Nothing like a battle scar with a real story behind it to impress friends for years to come!
Give him a squeeze from us :)
~Em
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