...Because it Was Time For a New Post....

I woke up this morning thinking: "My, it has been far too long since my last blog post, I wish I had something to write about but things seem pretty calm and normal and...." and then I made the novice mistake of FORGETTING TO KNOCK ON WOOD!

We had a busy day planned today. Aidan had no school and the five of us had lots of errands and chores on our plate before Aidan headed out for a playdate, Madeline to school and Liam for nap leaving Lily to help me with the house work (ha ha). Liam had an Occupational Therapist appointment first thing this morning to get us started so I made sure the kids were on top of their personal to-do lists so we'd be ready to get out the door as soon as it was over to take Madeline to a trial dance class.

Liam's tongue teacher (as we call her) arrived a tad bit late. After stopping just once, when Liam told me he had to use the potty (false alarm), we went quickly through all the exercises, which basically amount to trying to get the kid to lick random things so that he gets extra practice moving his tongue various directions. (According to the ENT we saw last week, Liam's tongue is attached differently than normal so it is not the tongue-tie causing his speech and feeding issues, rather an attachment issue that may be hindering some of the movement...or not....which may or may not have anything to do with anything... The good news: He didn't want to go the surgical route...because you know, we were really interested in that option! I'm pretty certain that if talking is a problem now, operating on the tongue probably wouldn't speed up the learning process...)

At any rate, as the tongue teacher was writing up her report for the day, I handed Liam a cup of milk which he immediately spilled on the ground. I gave him a towel to clean it up and afterward he started playing an innocent game of peek-a-boo with me. You know the routine: now you see him, now you don't....because there is a towel on his head and surely you don't know he is there any longer....

Liam got a huge laugh out of this game. Over and over he put the towel on his head and pulled it off to show me 'SURPRISE' he was really there...chuckle chuckle. And then he decided to go all extreme-sport version on me and was about to bust out with his own version of the Double McTwist when he lost his balance (taking the towel off his head) and fell into the side of a nearby wooden chair. (Shoot, how'd that get there?)

Now, from my angle, it looked like he hit his arm, maybe just barely brushing the side of his head on the way down. Nothing too crazy, right? We were playing peek-a-boo for crying out loud. But, my angle was quite wrong apparently because when he came up to see if he had landed it (dude!) he had a three quarter inch laceration above his eye. Perhaps Liam was feeling a little unstable not having any upcoming doctor visits so he purposefully dove head first into the chair...or perhaps he just wanted to prove he fit into our family, just a few months late, as with most things...or perhaps he was just going for that tough-guy look to make up for his size. Whichever it was, he succeeded.

So, the OT helped round up my kids as I made a series of phone calls to find someone to watch the other three while we went downtown to the Children's Hospital, again. Half an hour later, Liam and I were at the Emergency Department. He smiled away, blood oozing out of his cut while I silently grumbled at having to wait for families whose "emergencies" didn't seem very emergency-ish. But then, I suppose the cut wasn't going anywhere either so no need to rush.

Shortly after checking in, the nurse came over and pasted numbing medicine all over Liam's cut. (He REALLY loved that....he just showed it differently than the other things he loves that don't make him fuss and cry and scream.) The stitch nurse came to escort us to our room within minutes where he told us we would wait until the medicine fully numbed Liam up.

"I'll be back in about 45 minutes," he said.

"Really? It takes 45 minutes?" I asked, not remembering from the last three times I'd been in the same position.

"Oh, we want to make sure he is as numb as he can be before we work on him," he replied. "But, here is the remote. Change the channel if you want and if you need me, just press that big red button in the middle." Staples T.V. commercials somehow merged with Southwest Airlines commercials in my head as I imagined pushing the big red button: Wanna Get Away?

We waited. And waited. And waited some more. And after we had waited as long as a two year old is physically and emotionally capable (it had been at least 10 minutes I am sure) Liam started to fuss. He was so fussy that not even the Non-Latex Glove Chicken I had blown up for him, nor the Tissue Magic tricks I did for him could distract him. He was pointing at the door and tugging at me, and grabbing at his clothes and doing everything he could but blurt out that this was not another false alarm: He had to go bathroom, NOW!

As I was bent down, trying to open the drawer of the cart that had the word "Diaper" on it, the admin staff came in to register us. I explained that, although I looked like I was trying to rob them, I really was just hoping to get a diaper since my son was in the process of going potty. She used her magic code to open the drawer (seriously, when did they invent those?) and handed me a diaper.

"We don't have wipes though so you will have to use the paper towels," she told me, as I watched her close the door with the diapers AND WIPES in it.

"No problem," I replied.

As luck would have it, she was training a new person today and what could have taken a few moments went on and on and on. Long enough that Liam had about lost it by the end (think Jack-Jack from the Incredibles). As soon as they turned to leave, I quickly wet a few paper towels, stretched Liam out on the bed and started the diaper change. Quite unfortunately, what I thought was a completed effort was still in process. He screamed as his bowels made huge, um, progress which I was able to catch in the paper towels. What I didn't anticipate was the other way in which he would go potty at that same moment. So, as Liam was spitting urine out of his mouth (he couldn't have aimed better had he tried!) and I was busy trying to wipe him up with half used paper towels, he gave one final yelp and out came the rest of last weeks food product. Kicking myself for not having taken both legs out of his pants and silently cursing the Miralax we've been giving him to help with the constipation issues, I reached over him to grab the tissues I had tried to entertain him with earlier. I had just started the arduous task of mopping everything up when the doctor came in for her initial visit. WHERE IS THAT RED BUTTON WHEN YOU NEED IT?!

So, there I am with a half naked toddler who is covered in poop at one end, blood and tears at the other and urine down the middle, a pile of diapers and dirty paper towels on the ground sitting next to some unidentified puddle, and I have all of two semi-used Kleenexes to try to fix the situation.

"Hi, I am Doctor.....um, can I get you some wipes or something?" she asked as she took notice of the scene.

"Oh, that would be great, thanks. Your registrar told me you had none," I said calmly.

She pushed the magic code and pulled out the full container of wipes that were sitting right next to the diapers and handed them to me before continuing to examine Liam, still naked but at least now smiling. I lined his new diaper with a few tissues in case he wasn't quite done yet, and made him a little more presentable before explaining what happened for the tenth time.

At this point, I am almost laughing at how ridiculous I sound.

"Well, you see Doc, we were playing Peek-a-boo and it got a little out of control...."(Uh-huh....sure....) "Usually we have them wear helmets of course, for such aggressive play, but you know how it goes....one thing leads to another and BAM!" (She's shaking her head yes, but writing "Child-Services" in her notes...)

I am sure the Emergency Department has heard it all but it didn't make it any less amusing. The stitch nurse laughed and said we should probably rename it Peek-a-Boo-Boo.

I'll spare the rest of the details but after screaming uncontrollably through the papoosing and stitching process, Liam immediately went back to all smiles as we lifted him up and handed him his big red popsicle. (Hmmm, maybe I should make it more clear that I am perfectly willing to just buy the kid some popsicles!)

Although he didn't exactly get a gold medal for his efforts, he does have five beautifully sewn stitches under his brow (along with some very empty bowels). And let there be no doubt, he has decided to throw in the towel on playing peek-a-boo (boo)... at least for today.

Happy Monday to you too! Oh, and be careful what you wish for! :)