Sophie fell this afternoon and landed on one of her dolls. It was the hard plastic sort of doll. It split her chin open. Not quite bad enough to get stitches, but almost. For Fred and me stitches are sort of a last resort. I am not personally opposed to stitches, but I do think they can do far more damage then the cut that warranted them ever did. That has been our experience at least. JP cut himself when he was small, causing a gash in his eyebrow. It didn't hurt him too much, but we decided it was deep enough that he needed stitches.
Young, naive, fools we were back in those days.
Bringing our child to the Emergency Room for a few stitches meant they would take a normally placid child and restrain him,using several nurses, and his own mother, then cover his entire body and face in a sterile drape, leaving only the one blood stained eye peering out from behind the blue shroud of fabric. The screams were horrifying. I was 7 months pregnant with Matt at the time and the doctor that was stitching him wanted to know if I had named him John-Paul after the Beatles or the Pope. I can still remember answering him "I just told you he's my third and you can clearly see I have another one coming...I'll let you go ahead and decide which one was my motivation." I am pretty certain JP was traumatized. I know I definitely was.
But it was a learning experience. We now are quite good at discerning what needs stitches and what does not. I called Dr. Fred home from work to make sure he concurred with my decision. While waiting I was determined to keep Sophie calm and quiet so she didn't see the cut and freak herself out, cause you know little girls do FREAK OUT at the sight of blood. And sometimes they freak out just hearing the word blood. So, peace and tranquility were definitely in order.
That was, of course, until my other kids came strolling along. Nothing says PANIC to a child in my house as loudly as Mom sitting quietly rocking the baby on her lap. The first to notice was Thomas.
"What's wrong with Lolo?"
"Oh nothing at all, she just bumped her chin a wee bit" I said while scrunching my face into the most threatening positions possible to visually shove him from the room, while shielding her from seeing with my other hand.
Thomas wide eyed, quietly slunk out of the room, but must have told Michael who appeared within moments asking the same thing again, only louder ( cause Michael pretty much talks in a quasi cry).
"What's WRONNNGGGG, with Lolo MOMMY?"
Striving to sound like Snow White I spoke gently "She has a small cut, that's all- now go run and play!" But this time I made even worse facial contortions that were certain to drive him away if they didn't shut him up quickly enough. He knew I meant business. Sophie seemed to sense something was wrong as she shifted uncomfortably in my lap. I rocked faster.
Goodness, what is it with kids? Why is their timing so awful? If you want them to be concerned about something, they are oblivious- but just try to keep something from them for a moment and they become Sherlock Holmes deducing the slightest inconsistencies. With Michael and Thomas spooked off, I knew it couldn't be very long until the two little imp girls peered out from behind a wall somewhere.
Mary and Sarah waltzed in together- hand in hand, as if to show force in their desire to get straight answers.
"Ohhhh! Whats wrong with Lolo?" They asked.
They are too cute to make ugly faces at, so instead I decided I better try to get them to play along. I covered my face with one hand and mouthed to the girls " SHE HAS A BOO BOO-I DON"T WANT HER TO BE SCARED...SHHHHH!" and winked big and hard at them both. Mary winked back, and Sarah smiled and nodded.
Then they walked over and in sweet motherly tones said
"Lolo what happened? Did you cut yourself?"
Lolo whispered "Yeahhh"
"Ohhhhh, where did you cut yourself?" Sarah asked
"on my chin" she said turning to show them both.
They both took one look and began making horrible noises. Sarah clearly repulsed began making retching sounds. Mary announced loudly "
Thats so gross!"
Sarah now yelled
"Lolo, it looks like you have a wicked witch on your chin! Eeewwww!"
Of course there in nothing, NOTHING in the world Lolo hates more then a wicked witch after seeing the
Wizard of Oz a few months ago with her siblings during movie night. She is terrified of her. She grew pale and grabbed at her chin, simultaneously screaming.
"No I don't have a wicked witch on my chin Sarah!"
Mary was a bit swifter and tried to take my cues. She adopted my tone of voice and said "No, Lolo you don't have a wicked witch chin" but she continued to make faces showing great dismay. Trying to pull herself together she then announced to Sophie:
"Don't worry Lolo, just because you have a big cut on your chin doesn't mean you'll be ugly forever and ever!"
And then she turned down the corners of her mouth and visibly shivered.
Thankfully Fred arrived with butterfly and princess band-aids which not only cured Lolo completely of her fears, but by handing her a fistful of assorted flavored lollipops, he also made her the coolest kid in the room ( restoring her to her former glory)- she was especially cool if you wanted a princess band-aid.
It should heal up nicely in a couple of days.
No thanks to ANY of my other kids.
