Two weeks ago, our homeschool co-op had a mom’s event planned. They ordered fancy pizza and “taught” us how to paint a pumpkin on a canvas. I gulped, loaded up my children in the giant van, handed my keys to my sixteen year old, and watched my world drive away with plans to stay and paint. Or pretend to paint. My skill is with fabric, not with paint and brush.
The kids arrived home safely. I may have tracked them on my phone the entire (20 mile, on the interstate) drive home. I breathed easier when they pulled into the driveway. And then I painted. And ate pizza. All were safe at home. Blaine was there. Perfect.
I got home to a three year old who was be-bopping to his piano playing and threw his head just a wee bit too hard. He face planted on the ivories and split the bridge of his nose open. He was asleep by then, but after cleaning it up the next morning, I loaded him up and we headed off for the first stitches of my motherhood career. He was a champ, never cried, and requested a sucker AND Chick-Fil-A for lunch. He milked that one for all he was worth.
A week later, he got his stitches out. In that week, he apparently ripped one of his stitches. (He says on popcorn. I’m confused by this.) His scar is less than ideal.
The next day, Eden had an appointment with the same doc. She’s practically glowing with all the x-rays at this point. She has walking pneumonia, a torn tendon in her wrist, and a torn ligament in her knee. Or something along those lines. All have tried to heal and she keeps re-injuring, doing little to nothing, because everything is already aggravated. She’s a mess and as gimpy as they come right now.
By now, I’m super over the doctor’s bright lights and long waits.
A day after that, he came in the house bellowing like he was dying, and the side of his nose was covered in blood. All I could think was there was no way I wanted to head off to see the pediatrician again. Nope, nope, nope. He calmed down, informed me he’d shot his bow and the arrow bounced off the horse trailer and the nock (the part that goes around the string to shoot it) bounced back and got him in the nose. His little nose now has stripes, perfectly placed in two parallel lines. Thankfully, they were not nearly so deep and no stitches were needed.
I told the pediatrician I’m holding off on scheduling physicals that are due next month until March or April. No offense. He’s great. I’m just done.