Tough Scrapes

Standard

Right when I think my kids are starting to toughen up, they collapse into puddles when they trip over the tiniest speed bumps.

Case in point: Yesterday, as I was walking the kids to school, Kate tripped on a crack and fell onto the asphalt. Ouch. She scraped up both knees pretty good and tore her pants. I was prepared to wipe away a few tears and help her get patched up. What I was not prepared for was the hour long hysterical crying and wailing.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“It’s gonna be okay. Let’s get you home and clean you up.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“You can’t walk? Hop in the stroller with the boys.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Where else does it hurt?”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! I wish I could go back in time! I wish this never happened! Why me???!!! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!”

To make a long story short, I was able to huff and puff the fully loaded stroller up the hill, we used over a dozen Band-aids and she did not go to school. (It’s half day Kindergarten. It’s over before it starts. Plus, I didn’t want her teacher to have to deal with the madness if another child should be so thoughtless as to bump into her freshly dressed wounds.)

She had Luke fetch her some blankets and pillows and she made herself a cozy nest right where she had been patched up. She was unable to move. But bless her heart, she was, however, able to sit up and take nourishment in the form of a go-gurt. Because when you loose blood like that, you need to keep up your strength.

And then the Tylenol kicked in.

But as Miss Scarlet declared through her tears of sorrow, “Tomorrow is another day!” This morning we applied fresh slicks of Neosporin and new bandages to those cute knees of hers and not a single tear. She wrangled on her jeans, brushed her teeth and was ready to carpe diem. I think all that cryin’ and fussin’ yesterday was cathartic for her. She got it all out. In the morning light of a new day, she looked a little older and a bit wiser to me.

“I may have to go to the nurse’s office today if I start oozing too much blood mom, but I won’t come home.”

Atta girl.

Advertisements

One response »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s