I had in mind this cute and funny idea for a post today. And all day, I made mental notes of what I was going to write and wrap it up with some little joke about Gavin being so damn clumsy.
For those who aren't privy to having a Thomas loving, wrestle playing, pool jumping, car tire peeing little boy, let me clue you into what its like. They get hurt a lot. With risks, comes consequences. But thanks to their testosterone, getting hurt doesn't always involve band-aids and tears. Actually, a lot of the time it is accompanied by laughter and repeating the same action that they just horribly failed at the first time. The way I see it, you have two choices as a mother of a boy- be overly anal and jump up every time they move, go gray within a year and lose sleep every night... or relax, stay close by but let them get hurt, and some what keep your sanity. I prefer option b. I have learned to wait for their reaction to react. To let them do things where they could possibly get hurt, but supervised and with back up plans.
Gavin, nicely put, isn't very graceful. This kid gets hurt more times then I can probably keep track of (which I tried to today), but has a high tolerance for pain and a rebound rate faster then I can blink. Its common for him to "cry" and I say that loosely because their are no tears, just that whine. But a real cry, those are the only times I am concerned. The only time my heart stops, and my muscles move before I can comprehend what has happened.
Here is a little glimpse at a day in the life of Gavin...
8:30am- Slammed a toy into his finger
8:45am- Dropped a toy on his foot
10am- Got too close to Fiona and she kicked him with her bar
12-1- At the pool and managed to stay injury free
1pm- Dropped his scooter on his foot
1:30pm- Hurt is finger, cause unknown
3pm- Got stuck in the playpin
3:30pm- Slipped on a Matching Game card
4:15pm- Burned his mouth on his oatmeal that he insisted on eating right out of the microwave
5pm- Dropped another toy on his foot
5:15pm-Slipped on a toy car
6pm- Got stuck between the couch
Everything went in slow motion. I saw the chair falling before I could put Fiona's spoon down. He was standing on his chair at the dinner table, after me telling him numerous times to sit. I had my back slightly turned, feeding Fi on the other side of me, and had no way of preventing what I saw coming. I still don't know how the chair got off balance, but down it went... and he had a fork in his hand.
There were tears.
He landed on his but, sitting on the back rest of the chair, the chair tipped on its back. My shoulders relaxed from the tense position they took when I saw it coming. But he was screaming more then he should for how he landed. He should be fine. That's when I saw the fork, and the blood. Right in the bottom of his chin, he had jabbed himself. A perfect fork tooth slice all the way to the bone. He wouldn't let me touch it, but I had to clean it. I had to try to get the blood to clot so I knew how serious this was. He was less then a half inch from stabbing himself where there was no bone, where the fork would have gone straight into the top of his throat.
Its one of those things where you are shaking about what could have happened, but somewhat relaxed because it didn't happen. Some hydrogen peroxide, a little pressure and a band-aid and its all okay, minus the soreness and the bruise that is sure to follow. But he could have stabbed his throat. We could have had another family member up at the hospital tonight. I wanted to yell at him, "WHAT WERE YOU DOING! I TOLD YOU TO SIT! YOU COULD HAVE DIED AND ITS YOUR FAULT!" Put the blame on the three year old. Ya, make the hurt,scared kid feel even worse. My fright turned to anger at my kid who doesn't listen to me. I sat him back on the chair while I finished feeding his sister. We didn't talk. I had to collect my self, go through the stages of grief, before I could comfort my baby who is too young to realize the consequences of his actions. There is only so much you can do as a parent to teach. Sometimes they have to learn on their own why you make the rules you do, but I don't like when the way they learn could have been deadly. I don't like seeing my clumsy boy get hurt.
He was back running around shortly after and got hurt one more time before he was safe in his bed for the night (got jabbed in his stomach with his hockey stick... not by his brother, he ran into the couch with it). They say when you have kids, its like watching your heart go walking around outside your body. And daily, I watch my heart get cut, bruised, banged, and crash. Boys, they give you a tough heart.
Have I mentioned that Gavin has lost both of his big toe nails this summer. Highly considering putting the twins in ballet. Husband approves.