Stitches

Part of the moving process is, of course, looking at houses. Like, I have said before, it is SO not my thing. I hate it. House hunting with kids, is even worse. My boys are quite.. rambunctious.. on a regular day. Add in taking them to a bunch of random empty houses and driving around for hours on end to the normal crazy and lets just say- its not pretty.

Last weekend, to try to help take some of the load off of me,  my mother offered to watch the boys while we went to look at a town home about half an hour away. I jumped on the chance with (possibly a little too much) enthusiasm and dropped the boys off with her the next morning for a little Nana time. They were excited about getting to play with a different set of toys, My mom was excited about playing with the boys, I was excited about looking in peace for a few hours. Win- win, right?

I met T at the town home, we looked around the neighborhood and checked out the place. It was nice but maybe too small. Close to his job but no yard. Yada, yada, back and forth. We eventually decided to get some lunch before we split up to go our separate ways. Him to work, me to get the kids. We sat and talked awhile about all the options we had seen so far, made lists, crossed things off. Ate our super delicious bar-b-que.

As I was finishing, my phone rang. It was my mother. I thought "Weird, she usually doesn't call me when I'm out like this".

As soon as I answered, my heart sank down to the pit of my stomach. All I could hear was K. Screaming his head off. Screaming his "I hate everything and you and this and that freaking hurt me WHYDIDYOUHURTME?!" scream in true hulk style.

All I could do was hold the phone away from my head and wait. Tommy and my eyes locked and he immediately asked for the check. I finally put the phone back to my ear and said loudly "what happened?".

"I don't know, he is bleeding like crazy! He won't hold still for me to help him! K hold still! I think he needs stitches but I can't tell!"

"Mom, try to settle him down and send me a picture. I'll be on my way in a minute."

Needless to say, she sent me a picture (of a calm, smiling monster) a few minutes later but I couldn't tell anything from it. He had a mark on his forehead but that was it. I took off back down to her house to assess the situation in person and check on my baby boy. About halfway down there, my mom called again and was totally downplaying it. About how she had put a bandaid on it and she thought it was okay. The only problem with this is, she is a bad liar. I sped up.

Once I got back to her house, I rushed inside and scooped up K. He had settled down but came running yelling "Mama, booooo booooo!" and jumped at me when he got with in arms reach. I sat him up on the counter and peeled away the bandage that my mother had put on him.

Yeah. Definitely needed stitches. A family first. I won't go into more detail so I don't run people off but it was deep. Small, but deep. I buckled him into his car seat and we hit the road to the emergency room. He was calm and singing the whole way there which did a huge service to my blood pressure.

Then, after we got checked in. We waited. And waited. And then? Waited. We waited for EIGHT. HOURS. Just sat. First in one room, then another. Sat and sat and played and tried our hardest to keep our 22 month old from literally scaling the walls. Tried being the key word there but in all reality after seven and a half hours, he was done. We all were. Exhausted and hungry and DONE.

Finally, I let my scary voice out on a nurse in the hallway and the doctor came in about five minutes later. He took a good look and said we should be able to glue it rather than stitch it. He also gave me the token lecture about how direly important vaccines are and how he would like to see him caught up. Having lost every ounce of patience I had left in my body hours before, I told him where to stuff his vaccines and focus on gluing up my kid. Not my proudest moment maybe but it was effective enough.

About ten minutes later, he came in with the supplies and we got down to business. Little K just laid there and looked up at the doctor. He never flinched, he never fussed. He laid there like a boss and let him fix his booboo. I was so proud. Not that I was surprised. He has always handled that kind of thing well. Even as a newborn, when they were taking blood from his heel every few hours, he never flinched or fussed. Tough kid. (We're in trouble).

Today is a week out. He has done great with the weirdness on his forehead. He doesn't even seem to realize its there. Bathing him has been... fun but doable. We had to turn down a trip to the pool this week too which was no fun for any of us considering this heat but hopefully by this time next week, he will be right as rain.