Yesterday was a doozy. Some of it was average inconveniences, but when standing in the shadow of the larger issues, they just created, well, a bigger shadow.
I awoke with a head cold. As did all four of my children. Is this my punishment for my smugness over my kids not going to school and thus not bringing home illnesses? I think maybe so. And I don’t make a good sick person. At all. I hate. I gripe. I complain. And I cry.
I’m weaning from caffeine again. I always do this, cut it completely the first trimester and then in that second trimester slowly allow it back into my life, just to have to wean again before they get here. I’ve been slowly mixing more and more decaf with the caffeinated and yesterday I had stepped it down considerably again.
We got our school work done with relative ease yesterday. You know, with the usual “I don’t want to’s” and all the interruptions, and squabbles.
And then while the kiddos were eating a snack of bananas and looking through a bag of garage sale finds – miniatures I had bought for my shadow box – I turned around to my beloved computer.
At which point I heard a crunching sound. Like the sound of someone eating peanut brittle. Knowing there was nothing that should sound like that I turned around. And there was my 2 and a half year old one foot from me holding his banana in one hand and half-eaten mini-gumball machine in his other. I sprang into action: sweeping his mouth of all the glass and mini-styrofoam gumballs. Realizing, through his screams, that his mouth was cut in at least 2 places I picked him up ran to the shower. Hoping to get him to spit the rest of the items out into the tub, I offered a sip of water. He swallowed it, of course. In the background, I have MyMiddlest and MyPrincess fighting about who knows what, and MyOldest, not new to the “crisis with BigMan” scenario, asking what he could do to help me. While assessing the child and situation, I asked for the phone. I couldn’t reach my husband. Of course, right? Then ran to the computer to look up Poison Control’s Hotline (1-800-222-1222). Ran back to watch BigMan, still in the shower, and talked to “Michael” this time, at Poison Control. Their official stance on swallowing glass, by the way, is “go to the hospital.”
Pause. Here’s the scene.
BigMan has been screaming. Stopped when I offered him more water. Here’s what I know. The glass from the gumball machine was paper thin. The whole of the glass was less than the size of a large marble. Half of it was still intact. The other half was chewed, spit, and swallowed(?). His mouth had definitely been cut by it. MyOldest’s finger had been cut by it when he helped to retrieve the left-over pieces to save for inspection (I told you he was not new to this – man, he’ll make a great daddy someday). The 2 middlest children are alternately squabbling, playing, and asking for things from me as though nothing has happened. I know that he hasn’t ingested much, if any, glass and that it was ground small and that a trip to the hospital means either picking up my husband from work (remember, he just took off the day before for my appointment), or going alone with all 4 kiddos to the E.R. Where they will either “watch him” for untold hours or do surgery on him to get it out. I also know, as with his last E.R. visit, that he was just eating that banana, so the surgery would probably be delayed at least 8 hours. I also know the cost, monetarily, of a visit.
I call my husband’s boss, ask her to locate him while I’m dressing BigMan, barking orders at my other children to get “go to town” clothes on. I relay all this information to Matt and he asks the question that brings me to my knees and starts the tears flowing. “So what happens if?”
He then gets me calm again, tells me to call my other mama-nurse friends and call him back. Megan, says what I would say to one of you if you called me in the same situation. I should probably go on to the hospital. What she did tell me that I didn’t know was, you can call the E.R. nurse and they may tell you more. I found out (after much internet searching) that number is not made readily available online. Matt got off the phone with me and went searching for the E.R. number. He called her and while explaining that his 2 year old son had bitten into … the nurse interrupts with “a mini-gumball machine?” Taken aback, my husband finds out that Megan had just called for us (what a friend, right?!). It made for a nice laugh in the midst of the insanity. The nurse asked a doctor and he said the glass probably wouldn’t show up on an x-ray and that they would “observe” him for bleeding from the mouth, vomiting, vomiting with blood, or blood in his stool. Which I could do from home if I wanted. But to call my pediatrician. Which I did. They concurred. So home I sat. Watching my toddler. Keeping him awake. At this point, I realize it’s been approximately 2 hours that I have been giving orders, but generally ignoring my other children.
The day wraps up with a severe headache, a safe toddler, ignored olders, poopy messes that about send me over, a clogged tub (just in time for the poopy mess cleanups), a house that’s been neglected all day, and a crying sick overwhelmed mama. As I’m spilling all this to my husband with many “I’m a terrible mama..”s thrown in, he begins to help me get little people headed for bed and tucked in. While I cuddle with our current Boss (who is TheMiddlest this week) my husband takes a survey without my knowledge. He comes in, calls TheMiddlest into the other room secretively, and then emerges with a piece of paper that changes my whole perspective.
2 Things I really like about Mama:
ThePrincess:
- “I like her coloring with me.”
- “I love her.”
TheOldest:
- “That she makes sandwiches when we’re hungry.”
- “That she’ll read us books.”
BigMan:
- “I like nuffing!” “Hehehehe.”
TheMiddlest:
- “She’s cuddly and comfy.”
- “She helps me not be scared.”
Another day made worth it by my husband and my children. I really wouldn’t trade what I’ve got for the peace and quiet that I could have.
