Rayn shares...

Boys... *sigh*
Okay, it is official. Kids can hurt themselves on air.

Just for historical note: We've had *five* (count 'em, 5!) emergency room visits since March 12th of THIS year. We're to the point that we walk in and the ER nurse says, "Oh, YOU again... what did you do THIS time?" as she eyes each boy. *sigh*

Last night's escapade didn't result in an ER visit (thanks to the wonderful understanding and emotional generosity of one Dr. Elaine Hoppes, DDS), but it was harrowing all the same...

We were in a rush (since I had a dental appt at 5 and it was already 4:15), I was trying to get dinner available for my notoriously capricious eaters (alright, so I popped leftover meatloaf and baked beans into the microwave) when T-man (my 28 month old) decided he wanted his "ziez!" (nursies, slurred as only a 2 yr old can). I told him to hurry into the living room to get his "ziez" and he did... face first into the couch.
It's a freaking COUCH! They are SOFT over 99% of the accessible surface!
In a feat only possible by a small toddler, T managed to slam his upper lip into the barely padded wooden board (front bottom) and by some inconceivable trick of oral acrobatics managed to gouge out a large chunk of flesh from the gum above his upper canine. Among screams, tears and copious amounts of blood - not to mention a gruesome chunk of hanging flesh, I vault the gate on my porch (T can open the door and has a penchant for running off at high speeds, giggling like crazy, completely unaware of fatal dangers, like large vehicles... *sigh*), grab S (my older son) and jump into the car, and rush to *my* dentist's office.
Once there I realized that my dentist has never treated T (she's out of network for his insurance) and immediately dismiss the thought, because Dr. Hoppes is a wonderful person - I'll give more examples later. I rush him in, breath a HUGE sigh of relief when I see Dr. H actually sitting at the desk (I was worried she might be booked solid!) and explain what happened. Seconds later, we are sitting in a chair and T is reluctantly letting Dr. H look at his gum (there was no chance of letting her examine his teeth to see if he cracked or broke one, alas...). Diagnosis: gum trauma, Treatment: prophylactic antibiotics (*cringe* but I understand the need) and ICE ICE ICE!
Unfortunately, no script for momma... though I could have used one! I can see the script now: Whiskey, 1 shot prn to be taken with 1 long, hot bath - no interruptions or substitutions. Increase strength of hair dye (to cover encroaching gray hair) as needed.

I really feel bad for two year olds, you know? Their little minds and souls are so far advanced beyond their bodies... they want to run, soar like eagles and feel the wind in their hair... but their legs are like a foot long. Legs toddle when hearts sprint.

Oh, back to Dr. H. She is incredible - seriously. How many dentists do you know who not only allow their patient's infant/toddler in the exam room, but even on the patient's lap while s/he (dentist) is working? T's pregnancy killed my teeth - I managed to break TWO molars, one was filled, but the other required a crown. T sat in my lap, nursing and supervising, throughout the entire process - fitting, refitting, cleaning, drilling, and setting the crown. He's supervised my cleanings & fillings since he was a few months old - though, nowadays, he's a little more intrusive and *ahem* "helpful."
Add to Dr. H's list of achievements yesterday's episode - seeing a toddler who isn't even her regular patient - and wow, what a person!

Now, onto more serious things... my older son (soon to be 12) brought home TWO girls yesterday. Not just one, but TWO. Girls. GIRLS!!!
Girls are calling my house. Not just one, but THREE. So far. Wait, no - FOUR.
He took the girls upstairs... allegedly because the downstairs was a mess (that HE made). I was okay as long as T was with them - as all parents know, there is NO fooling around with an active toddler hanging onto you, but when one of the girls sent T downstairs with me, I was rather worried... and amused. I immediately called S down and he sllllllooooowwwwllllllyyy responded... with a silly grin on his face. I got the adolescent sigh when I whispered in his ear that there was no way in hell that I was going to let him be upstairs *in MY bedroom* with two girls... EVER. Then he grinned again. (Mom's turn to sigh...)
The girls left as soon as they had to come downstairs. Hmm.
New rule: NO GIRLS UPSTAIRS without Momma or T!
Addition: NO GIRLS in the house when Mom isn't home!
Pre-teen response: "I KNOWWWW, Mom!"
Girls.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
His father's response (just for record) when I called him to tell him? "That's MY boy! Tell him if he wants to bring them here, he can take them in the hottub!"
*sigh*

Current Mood: worried

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