I declare that this week be over already. Yes, I know it’s early.
First the huge Navy inspection of my daycare. Followed by a second, slightly less invasive though no less agonizing, Navy inspection of my daycare. Sure, everything turned out perfectly since I am a responsible, ethical caregiver – but my stress ulcer can’t hear your reassurances over the burning sound.
And then today – the day of happiness, buttercups, and field trips – resulted in a Little in the Emergency Room.
FOR THE LOVE OF BABY JESUS!
The Big Little and I were walking down a quaint street near where we live, a Dutch/Viking village that just oozes tranquility and pastries. As we strolled while stuffing donuts into our mouth, we passed by this large, low glass window. It was filled with colorful board books perfect for the Littles who inhabit my home.
The Little tugs on my hand and I follow her into the store. As we are ensconced in the children’s corner, the Big Little is happily pulling one book from the shelf at a time and then after perusing the cover, she puts it back or stacks it up. I’m not sure how much cash she had stuffed into her tiny pockets, but she would find a way to get that stack of books I’m sure.
Toddler smiles = priceless
I’m standing 23 inches away from her when she finds another book to her liking. She takes the book off the shelf and places it on the children’s seat that is near her. Then she bends down to pick up a book from the floor and that’s when it all goes sideways.
She cracks her chin on the chair, and when she stands up she has blood pouring from her mouth. I start applying pressure and looking for the wound. I finally manage to clear a path in the bloody carnage to see her tongue, this huge laceration is staring at me, and I calmly shove the Hubster towards the door to bring the car around. I shoved him so hard and then may have screeched at him in tones only dogs can hear.
Calmly though, like they tell you to in a crisis.
This Little is in luck. Her mom works at the hospital! Even better, her dad works in the very Emergency Room we would soon be in! See, it’s all okay!* We’re just going to see mommy and daddy! *Said while psychotically smiling in a calm manner.
The Little is looking at me with her huge wounded baby seal eyes and screaming as if her life is over, all while blood pours around the ice pack. The drive seems to take hours, when in reality it takes mere minutes. Still, those wounded baby seal eyes haunt my dream.
We get to the ER and the Big Little is, of course, now calm and drinking water – generally ok with her life. I felt fucking ridiculous when she got released from the ER back into my care and nothing had to be done to her. They told me to give her some applesauce. Applesauce. Dad even got a little joke in and wrote it down on paper, like a medical necessity.
Applesauce indeed. I can do better than that!
I promised the Little that she could have any dessert she ever wants for the rest of her life. I also may have promised her a pony. I’m not a 100% certain since I was so angry at myself for making a joke in my head when she initially hit the chair. What was the joke? You guys are sick…but I’ll indulge you. When did that chair get there?!?
I’m going straight to hell.
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