My Foot Got Stuck in the Car Seat: A Parenting Memoir (cont.) x3

Ch. 4: I’m Not Going to the ER for Stitches Tonight

Stop running!
Don’t climb on that!
We do NOT jump on the bed!
The living room is NOT the place for gymnastics!

Lord kids! Y’all are wearing me out!

Why do children HAVE to run inside the house? It’s like something about walls renders anyone younger than 12 incapable of “indoor feet” (as we in the teaching business call them).

The youngest of our crew, E2, had just recovered from, what I deemed a traumatic head injury, only a few weeks previous. I first learned of his injury when JML posted an Instagram pic from the hospital with E1 and E2. What made this different from other family posts is that JML and E2 were covered in blood. I wasn’t overly reassured by the thumbs up’s presented by JML and E1.  E2, stitches visible on his head, did not look so sure.

Tale as old as time– E2 was running and took a header on an end table… (sigh)

Consequently, E2 was also the one that LOVED to run through the rental house like a track star at the Olympics. There were several tables, complete with hard, heavy tile. And a raised surface around the fireplace with sharp corners. And a glass table that was just slightly shorter than E2, but that he loved the sit under, and then stand up suddenly. BANG!

Have I mentioned I HATE blood? I mean, I can deal with it, but I don’t like it. At all. BLECH!

E2’s second favorite game, after running like a wild man, was climbing on the raised surface around the fireplace and jumping off.

Aye, yi-yi!

But E2 wasn’t the only runner… oh no. They ALL ran, and they ran fast and haphazardly.

STOP RUNNING! I swear kids, I am NOT going to the ER for stitches tonight!!

Did they stop? Hell no! They just ran by! (I’ll pause while you sing the rest…. Ice Ice Baby, too cold!)

And with the knowledge we had about these kids, I will grant that perhaps watching the Women’s Olympic qualifying in gymnastics may not have been the best viewing choice, but WHOA! Have you all seen Simone Biles’ floor routine?! (If not, WATCH IT!)

I am happy to report that there were NO major injuries on the trip, everyone came home with all of their appendages and we were all stitches-free, though perhaps with a few more Band-Aids than when we first arrived.

(Side note: Speaking of Band-Aids, I swear to all that is holy my daughter is attempting to create a new superhero persona known as BAND-AID GIRL! Right now she has no less that 4 Band-Aids on. None of which are remotely necessary. But hey! If it stops her whining and dramatics over the tiniest scratch ever- only visible with a NASA strength microscope– then whatever!  Seriously, she was asked twice on Monday if she ever considered going into the theatre because of her overreaction to injury.)

bandaid

And maybe she gets it from me. Perhaps you are reading this and thinking, “Good Lord woman! Chill OUT!” If you are, then you clearly do not know me. I have a reputation for the weirdest injuries ever.

  • Worked out with a trainer for 10 minutes: tore a calf muscle
  • Ran a 5K to benefit the school: surgery to reattach ligament in my ankle
  • Walking up stairs at school: tripped by clumsy 5th grader, took out another teacher, broke pinky
  • In physical therapy for ankle: develop plantar fasciitis in heel
  • Went to close hotel door at same moment hubby opened it from outside: broken thumb/ cast for 6 weeks
  • Kidney stone: passing out in the bathroom, narrowly missed slamming my head on the toilet, but did manage to pull down a glass jar on my head, resulting in big gash on side of head and an ambulance ride

So yeah.

I know kids will be kids, and there are going to be scrapes, bruises, and bumps… And maybe it is because I only have one kid that I am more high strung about it than parents of multiples. I promise, I do will myself to relax and let the munchkins have fun. (And I am WAY better at this than hubby, BTW).

Up next~ ch. 5: Voice Volume Modulation

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