My friend Carrie says that every time you think you have run out of things to blog about, watch out... something is sure to happen. The sad thing is that I really hadn't run out of things to say. I had a whole piece already composed in my head about Christmas cookies, and all the adorable and messy things my kids had done while we made them. But that whole thing will stay in my head. Instead I am going to talk about things we (we being mom's) already know, but for some reason have to be reminded of again and again.
If you see something laying out on your counter and your first thought is "I should put that where it belongs. It could ------ (fill in the blank with .... make a huge mess, hurt someone, destroy my entire house) if it fell into the wrong hands." Of course the wrong hands are those of your child, or children, whichever the case may be. Anyway... to finally finish the first sentence, if that is your first thought, put it away. Don't wait. Don't think "I already have three things in my hands, and am on my way to the bathroom, and haven't yet folded the laundry in the dryer, and the washer is already done, and another load is waiting to be put in" Don't think that. I don't care how busy you are. Do not, no matter how busy, merely push the offending item farther back. It will not, let me emphasize that, WILL NOT, be out of reach of your two year old. Also, if you have a two year old, and you think to yourself, lets get a nice little stool for him to stand on, so he can reach things by himself. It will be so helpful. He can wash his own hands, and reach his own snack, and stand on it so he can pee into the toilet by himself. Don't think that, and if you do think it, don't listen to yourself.
Okay, now that I have shared my deep thoughts, let me just tell you about my day, well actually, days, plural.
This week has been overwhelming, for several different reasons, that I won't go into right now. But, yesterday I noticed that the Ben-Gay muscle rub was sitting on the bathroom counter. My first thought was "gee, that would make quite a mess if Zion got ahold of it". But, all I did was scoot it to the back of the counter, and move on with my day. Just a few moments later I noticed a hammer sitting on the counter in the kitchen. I had used it to crack pecans the day before, which leads me to my Christmas wish list... a nutcracker. But, back to the hammer. I just shoved it to the middle of the island, and didn't carry it out to the garage where it belonged. Around 11:30, as I was reading the mail (a Christmas card from one of you, my loyal readers!) and thinking to myself that I should blog that afternoon during nap time, Canaan ran up to me and said "Mommy, Zion is eating something, and it smells spicy." At first I thought he was eating gum, but as I walked up to him, he swallowed hard, then burst into tears. Immediate spike in the worry meter. I got him to show me what he ate, and sure enough, it was Ben-Gay. I started pouring water on him, trying to get it in his mouth and wash it all down, dilute it, cool his throat, whatever. It says to call poison control if it is ingested, so I did. They told me that aspirin is the worrisome ingredient, and that he would have had to have eaten at least a teaspoon to hurt him. Since I didn't know how much he had eaten, perhaps I should take him to the ER. I didn't even know where the ER was!!
Anyway, I called around, Andy asked the guys he worked with for directions, I loaded the kids after getting Zion dressed, since he was still in his pajama's, and they were soaked with the water I had poured all over him, and we headed to the ER. I went rushing in, dragging poor Canaan behind me, and this wonderful, fabulous, old doctor happened to be standing at the reception desk, talking to a nurse. As I come in, obviously nearly in a panic, spouting nonsense about my son eating Ben-gay, the doctor just said, "I'm sure he is fine." And suddenly, all was right in the world again. Amazing, isn't it, how just a few simple words from the right person can make the world starting spinning again, and breathe begin filling your lungs again. The doctor looked at him, told me that he really doubted Zion had eaten enough to make him sick, since the stuff tastes terrible, and that I should just give him lots of fluids and try to flush it out of him and keep it diluted. No need to pump his stomach, or give him that charcoal junk, or even do any blood work. Within five minutes of walking into the ER, I was back in the car, and beginning to see the humor in the whole situation.
I can only assume that Zion thought it was toothpaste.
Poor thing, that wasn't the end of his day, or mine either! Later that day, obviously with no side effects, he pulled his little stool over to the kitchen island, and while I loaded the dinner dishes in to the dishwasher, climbed up, got ahold of the hammer I had noticed earlier, and carried it off. He then proceeded to beat repeatedly on the door leading to the garage. unfortunately, it is always loud at my house, so it actually took me a few minutes to notice that the noise level was higher then usual. By that time he had put about 15 little dents in our metal door. Beautiful!
Luckily, it was nearly bedtime by then, or I may have just completely lost my mind, curled up in a ball, and gone to sleep myself.
Today I took the boys to base and dropped them off with Andy around 1. He was able to get off work early and take them home, so that I could go to my 4th doctor's appointment in two weeks time. (nothing serious, just the usual diabetes and thyroid stuff, with a new doctor, in a new town, so extra work) Anyway, when Andy got home with them, Canaan was asleep, so he let Zion out of the car, and started to carry Canaan in to his bed. Somehow Zion managed to trip and fall on his little pedal car. Beautiful split, straight across his forehead! Needless to say, Canaan got woken up, because Andy had to put him down, run and find a towel, and soak up blood! According to Andy, Canaan was wonderful big helper, holding pressure on Zion's head while Daddy tried to find the antibiotic cream. By the time I got home it was a beautiful bump, and still slightly scary looking, but done bleeding.
That child may not make it to 2. He only has 2 days left until he turns two, and I may have to put him in a padded room, with only stuffed animals to play with just so he can survive that long. Goodness, he has worn out my emotions these last two days! Physically I am pretty worn out too, but it is the sudden panic, and the crashing relief that really wear you out!
That's my story... learn from it!
