This afternoon I was slumbering blissfully in my vehicle when, all of a sudden, I was awakened by knocking on my window. I must admit I'm glad my bladder was empty, because the startle really could have made me wet myself a bit. "Um, your son hurt himself...why don't you pull into the gravel lot and they'll let you come inside." Of course I freaked out, almost back into and then rear ended the cars around me to get out of my space and into the school. They let me in and I hurried to the clinic in the office. I found a pitiful little guy sitting with the principal, holding an ice pack to his head and trying really hard not to cry. When he took off the ice, I had to bite my tongue a bit. It looked knotty for sure. I know everyone says that it is a good thing when a bump pops out after a whomp, but as a mother it is just a shiny, bulbous beacon showing that I was unable to protect him at all times. Reality is an ugly reminder, but it makes people like me know that other people can care for him when I am away and accidents happen. Let's get to how it happened. "Well, we were playing kickball...". There you go. His ripped up finger last week and scraped up knee the week before all had stories that started with, "We were playing kickball...". So they were playing kickball and he was having a good run, they threw the ball to get him out, he tripped over it and landed head first into a wooden post. I asked him if it knocked him out or what. "Well, I walked around in circles for a couple minutes to try and figure out what was going on and work on standing up and then I walked over to my teacher." His teacher said he kind of staggered over and, upon seeing his head and demeanor, had him go straight to the office(with a helper). We waited for G to get done with her safety duty, had a talk with the hub about our options and then called our nurse friend who works a our pediatrician's office. He got home, got his soccer ball ice pack and some Motrin and settled down to take it easy for a minute. I immediately realized he was on his way to fall asleep, so we started asking lots of questions to keep him up. By the time bed rolled around, he was feeling better but still had a massive headache. His head is going to look absolutely excellent for Christmas pictures. He did not appreciate me singing a song about him similar to Rudolph containing the line, "The pump knotted 2nd grader...". No humor at this point. Maybe tomorrow.
Look for his poor, shiny little head tomorrow. The pictures don't do it justice. Tomorrow's will be a lot more purple I imagine. Yuck.
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