Rough Day

It's been a long week. I was so looking forward to the end of it. The day itself was one of those rare days in early Spring - sandwiched between the snow, rain and freezing temps; where the sun is shining, the sky is blue, temperatures are just right and there's a slight breeze to make things even more pleasant.

The plan was to head home and take Noah for that bike ride he had been begging for all week. I even planned leaving a few minutes early to make the most of the rest of this day. A few minutes before I left, I got a call from Mandy, and all I could hear was Noah sobbing uncontrollably in the background. Now, he's a physical boy and normally getting a "boo boo" only causes tears until we tell him to brush it off, or until we pick him up and "kwiss it".

This time was different. He took a spill running downhill on cement, and opened up both his knees. His left knee was the worst, right on top of the scar that was forming from his first major injury that was still healing after a couple of months. In that incident, he was getting wild in the bathtub and, despite our repeated (and futile) efforts to get him to calm down and warn him that he could get hurt, he jumped up and split his knee open on the bathtub drain handle.

Let me tell you, trying to get a wet, slippery, bleeding toddler out of the bath, get the blood cleaned up and get the toddler in question quiet all before Mom gets wind of the chaos unfolding upstairs is, in fact, impossible.

Fortunately, I'm married to a pediatric nurse, and she's fairly unflappable about this sort of thing. Unfortunately, she didn't see him before I had him bandaged up. Had she done so, she probably would have recommended stitches and a doctor. By the time the cut had split open for the third time a few days later, it was too late for stitches and we had to resort to butterfly bandages.

It left such an impression on Noah though, that he often refers to this 'tragedy' and it even shapes his current bath behavior. Any time I take off his PJs or pants, I hear, "I got a boo-boo daddy. I jump in de tub." And "That not wise." He no longer jumps in the tub, although he's not been cured of his habit of splashing.

Noah was so worked up and shaking uncontrollably, and unwilling to be put down by his mom that he eventually passed out, and I came home to this scene:

That's a supermom - managing to keep two crying kids quiet. Funny thing was Wally was outside the back door waiting for me when I got home, and had been for at least an hour. Somehow he got outside while she was trying to get in, and she didn't realize it. Good thing he didn't attack any of the guys working on our new street.

Back to Noah - last time he was hurt, I never could tell though, whether he was afraid of the blood, the scar, or the bandages that we had on his knee. After the first incident, he only freaked out whenever we would take his pants off or have to change his bandages. Once the pants went on, he was fine. This time, he was filthy after a day of play outside, and we decided we needed to at least clean the wound before we applied band-aids. So, into the bath we went. It was not a pretty picture - he begged us to leave him alone.

Finally putting on the bandages was the worst. He was doing everything in his power to get away - it scared him to death, and it's heartbreaking to hear your child scream "No, daddy, no!!!" and see the absolute fear in his eyes because he thinks you're going to hurt him.

After we got him bathed and brought him back downstairs, of course he wanted his mama to "hold you" and "cuddle". It's a real rarity for us that Noah likes to slow down and be held, so Mom took full advantage, and camped out on the couch with Noah in her arms like a newborn. That left me with E, the real newborn, who is still not all that happy about getting stuck with me. So for a while, we had a house full of crying kids until Noah finally calmed down and we got to switch kids.

It was good for me as well - I never get to really hold Noah, unless it's to put him to bed. We both felt guilty about how much we were enjoying just hanging out with him on the couch (especially without having to "Play TRAINS!!!!)

After cuddling for awhile, Noah decided he did want to play trains. He was limping and holding his knee as he said "I tough". We played for a bit, but his knee was hurting too much and decided he wanted to cuddle and watch Snoopy.

Mandy just hung out on the couch with him as long as he wanted until sleep finally overcame him. His last words to Mandy were about his accident , "Miss Kewwey, ice cream" (Mandy was carrying this 38 pound boy and pushing a stroller up from down the block as Noah was sobbing, and stopped at our neighbor's house to clean him up and rest her arms. Kelley gave him some ice cream, but he was too upset to have more than a couple bites) and then he started snoring.

Getting hurt early comes from the Thomas side of the family. I had my first four stitches by 20 months, having walked into a slide (they were probably made out of steel and barbed wire back in those days). A year and a half later, I had 22 stitches in my knee from trying to "ice skate" on some windows my mom was washing. She threw me in the bathtub just to keep the blood from ruining her wood floors as we got ready for the hospital. She kept track of all the stitches in my baby book until she got tired of counting. I'm sure we'll see the same with Noah.

Hopefully he'll sleep good tonight and feel better tomorrow. No doubt we'll hear all about these boo-boos for months to come.