De Ann's Clan

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Porter started soccer today. All I can say was that it was cute. He was so cute trying to get a kick at the soccer ball. I liked that there were no real stars on his team or the other team for that matter. All the parents were just happy when the kids were kicking the ball in the right direction. The whole thing would have been enjoyable if I didn't have Zander doing constant headbutts into my breasts (did I mention that I am still nursing?), headstands on my lap and karate kicks in my face.

We brought our dog Lexi to the game. I know, I know, what was I thinking? All the kids thought that she looked like a cute friendly dog and wanted to pet her. Little did they know that this little miniature pinscher is just friendly to my kids. So I spent a good part of the time protecting all the naive little children from being nipped.

Dresden is teething, so she has been a handful. Dresden is the dream child. She really is. But even a dream child can't help but be a handful when they are teething. I love holding her. But it would have been nice to be able to set her down.

So enough about the game. I have other experiences to share...

Zander went to he ER not once but twice last week. There is nothing like going up to the ER desk and have everyone remember you. It is pretty embarrassing.

The first time he ran into the fireplace and cut his forehead open near his eye. It comes close to matching the scar Porter has by his eye. Zander is a tough little boy and only cried when we were going to the hospital. He kept telling me that he didn't want to go. When we were there he was doing his usual somersaults and headstands. I tried really hard to get him to sit still when the doctor was in the room.

The second time Zander cut his forehead up by his hairline. The older boys were keeping Zander busy at Smiths while I was at the check out. I obviously wasn't watching as they started spinning out of control on some stools by the picture counter. Zander came running to me with blood running down his face. The entire Smith's management was there in a flash trying to be as helpful as possible to keep me from suing them. I told them not to worry. It was my fault that I was a neglectful mom and not theirs. I did let them carry my groceries out to the car.

As we drove to the ER Zander kept telling me that he was fine and to turn around. He used great vocabulary for a three year old. He said that he just wanted to go home.

When I went the first time to the ER I left Dresden and Kyath at the neighbors. But this time I had all four children. They were wearing dirty shirts, not so clean shorts and dirt smeared legs. I fit the part of neglectful mom. The triage nurse asked me how many children I had. When I told her four, she said, "That's enough." under her breath. And she wasn't trying to be funny. I can't explain the joy I felt (sarcasm intended) when she ended up being our nurse and was the one that held Zander down while the doctor stitched him up.

I thought I was shaken up after the first trip to the ER but two trips in a week really put me over the top. The breaking point was probably when Zander woke up the second day after stitches and glue on top (it was very deep) and I noticed he had picked all the glue off. The thought of going to the ER a third time was a little too much. Don and I decided to just keep it clean and let the top part heal on its own. It is close enough to the hairline that the scar won't be too noticeable.

The most ironic part of the last couple of weeks is that I started working again and I have never been happier. I have decided that I need something that takes my mind off my crazy life. I think I am going to have to tell my therapist that I am cured and no longer have a need for her.

2 comments:

Katrina said...

First of all, that nurse needs a nice smack. What a jerk.

My mom tells stories of going to the ER so much that the nurses would take the boys aside and try to get "what really happened" out of them. Four boys born in a row is what really happened.

EBKB said...

Ah, man, I thought I had a rough week!

On the subject of therapy--I have been "cured" about fifty times, which is great. While it lasts.