First off let's say, I am a bad mom and take pictures of my kids while they are sleeping in awkward positions. The boy had to go to school on his off day for me to sub, so he didn't get a nap. After he got home from church this evening, he got bathed and learned to ignore the shrieks of pain(more on that in a minute)then fell asleep. Hard. I came up to start winding down for the evening and found him like this. It almost resembles a handcuffed person who decided to lay down and go to sleep. I assure you that this is not the case here. But it did warrant a loud whisper down to B to "come up and see this one!". It had been. An interesting day up to the point of the picture. I subbed at preschool today with a lively bunch. Very lively. I stayed for the afternoon as well, subbing for an ailing coworker. New p.m. Teacher is like blood in the water for sharks. They tried everything they could think of on me. One boy even tried to convince me that, when I caught him with his hand in the fishbowl trying to squeeze the fish and scare it, his teachers let him do that anytime he wants. Okay. Let me tell you, that fish was stressed. but, as God is my witness, it was alive when I left. Hopefully it's little Beta heart held out.After church, we came home in a flurry. B's car battery was ill, so he went to get it changed out. I told the kids to get bathed and get to bed. G had been complaining about her toe, saying she kicked a ball too hard in gym and had hurt it. I felt it was probably some drama from being tired at the end of the day. Then she showed it to me. Terribly ingrown. Terribly. Another "Mom feels an inch tall" moment. Now I know about ingrown toenails all too well. I don't think they are an inherited trait, but the habit of cutting them too short is. She actually had broken hers off a couple weeks ago. I sent her back in the bathroom to soak her toe in the tub for a while. I readied the tweezers and cotton, prepared to take on the surgeon role as my father has so many times. Luckily for all involved, B came back just in time for all hell to break loose. My first little shove of that cotton under her toenail produced a scream that was heard out of state. After that, I had to hold her still while B did the technical work. I think we both experienced hearing loss tonight as well as strained muscles. After he had gotten what we thought was a generous portion stuffed under her nail, he requested scissors to cut the slack off. This is what we got:
The scissors circa probably 1976 when I was in preschool...yeah I'm that old. They may even have my name written in nail polish on the other side...my mom did that often to mark our school property. As you can I imagine, those scissors couldn't cut butter much less cotton shoved under a toenail. The cotton was kicked out or convulsed out about 4 times, but finally it was done and band-aided to the point of being an ER job. B and I then looked at each other, realizing we would never get that hour back. At least she got some relief. The evening ended up with us having to call Kroger and find out food prices on three items(not in the sales add)for S's advanced math project. I won't spend time on that, but let's just say that it sparked a lot of "after kid bedtime" conversation. It is never dull around here. If the screaming disturbed you, I sincerely apologize. If she had just let me get a needle and relieve the pressure that way, it would have all been over quickly. But you say the word needle and everybody has a loud opinion. Oh well. Fargo's on and I'm sleepy. Night all....
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