We try hard to teach the boys good life lessons:
- Eat your beans
- Pick up after yourself
- Be polite
- Be careful what you teach Sam he WILL be bigger than you
- Be the first to act as the retaliator always gets it worse
- etc...
And in spite of learning to spot trouble coming a mile away we still can't always protect them from themselves.
Home from the weekend camping trip I had just started looking at my Dad's computer which was ailing. Being the oldest child and the wisest I say [ok the geekiest] I'm the family computer help guy. Realizing this is going to be a project I decided to head upstairs to the kitchen to grab a drink. Passing the boys in the downstairs living room who are alrightly fighting I shoot them a look and give them a verbal warning to quit fighting. They've just spent the entire weekend in close quarters together and topped it off with a three hour car ride home - they're sick of each other and I'm sick of their bickering.
While getting my drink I hear a loud thud from downstairs and knowing it's not good I hurry back down to find Sam doing the I'm-sorry-damage-control-speech. "Sorry, sorry, sorry Justin. I didn't mean..." I take one look at Justin who is crying and seeing the split in his forehead know immediately we are taking another car trip. So I level with him right away but also try to control his panic. "We're going to the Urgent Care. It's just a cut but I think it's going to need a couple stitches, it's not a big deal." Easy to say for me because I don't have a bleeding head, but I get him upstairs and keeping him relatively calm give him a wet washcloth to hold on his head.
Then I run into the bathroom to tell Bird she has to get out of the shower to come to the Urgent Care. We haven't even been home 30 minutes from her brother's cabin and she's dripping wet having just showered away the weekend grime. I notice out of the corner of my eye Sam in the adjacent room doing push-ups, our favorite form of discipline. He clearly feels remorse. Bird quickly dries off and rushes into the kitchen. In that time we begin piecing together what has happened. After I left the boys having warned them off each other Justin went to the office to play a game. Sam followed and hit Justin then turning to flee. Justin gave pursuit and Sam tried to shut the office door behind him. The result being that he tried to shut Justin's head in the door as they were both running out. Only now do we notice the enormous goose egg growing on the opposite side of Justin's head. So equipped with a moist compress on one side of Justin's head and an ice pack on the other side we usher everyone back into the car.
When we arrive at the Urgent Care we are lucky enough to be the only ones there so Justin get attention quickly. With Justin on the table I put Sam in a nearby seat to be certain he can see what's happening. The nurse cleans up the wound and asks us a series of questions. When she asks if Justin has any medical problems my response is, "Justin's only medical problem is sitting over here in the chair." Even though Sam is only six he gets the joke, but the mood in the room is lightening a bit and it was all in good humor. This whole time I'm hoping Justin's shoes stay on his filthy feet for fear that the nurse will think we don't bathe our children. I, myself, try to stand back a little as I haven't showered since Friday. Then the doctor comes in to look, but before she says anything I have to get my two-cents in. By this point we've had experience with staples, glue, and stitches - all the major forms of surface repair - and I have my preference for stitches. They are sturdy and yet easy to remove. I also want the doctor to know that Justin has hockey to think about and I want her decision to include this fact. Yes, even at this time I'm thinking about hockey two days in advance. It seems, however, that she was thinking he would require stitches the whole time and my worries were unnecessary.
I warn Justin that he's going to get a shot to numb the spot so in turn he asks the doctor if it is going to hurt. She tells him straight out, "A little, but not as much as [the stitches would otherwise]." I think Justin appreciates this truth (as do I) and he appears to be ready for what is to come. So equipped with her needle of Lidocaine the doctor starts administering the shots telling Justin, "Now you'll feel a pinch and a little burn." Four times we watch as he goes rigid and winces from the shots. Bird holds his hand while I put my hand on his leg and as uncomfortable as it is to watch I know it is worse for Justin. Sam gets an eyefull though and takes his own medicine so-to-speak. After that three stitches go in easily and Justin hops off the table nearly like nothing is wrong. He gets over the experience so quickly I am actually a little shocked.
So we head home (again) only a little worse for the wear. Sam seems to comprehend the severity of the situation with an abnormal clarity on his part and for this he is given no extra discipline apart from what was already self-administered. Justin (aka Lumpy), on the other-hand, has a new badge of honor.
- Eat your beans
- Pick up after yourself
- Be polite
- Be careful what you teach Sam he WILL be bigger than you
- Be the first to act as the retaliator always gets it worse
- etc...
And in spite of learning to spot trouble coming a mile away we still can't always protect them from themselves.
Home from the weekend camping trip I had just started looking at my Dad's computer which was ailing. Being the oldest child and the wisest I say [ok the geekiest] I'm the family computer help guy. Realizing this is going to be a project I decided to head upstairs to the kitchen to grab a drink. Passing the boys in the downstairs living room who are alrightly fighting I shoot them a look and give them a verbal warning to quit fighting. They've just spent the entire weekend in close quarters together and topped it off with a three hour car ride home - they're sick of each other and I'm sick of their bickering.
While getting my drink I hear a loud thud from downstairs and knowing it's not good I hurry back down to find Sam doing the I'm-sorry-damage-control-speech. "Sorry, sorry, sorry Justin. I didn't mean..." I take one look at Justin who is crying and seeing the split in his forehead know immediately we are taking another car trip. So I level with him right away but also try to control his panic. "We're going to the Urgent Care. It's just a cut but I think it's going to need a couple stitches, it's not a big deal." Easy to say for me because I don't have a bleeding head, but I get him upstairs and keeping him relatively calm give him a wet washcloth to hold on his head.
Then I run into the bathroom to tell Bird she has to get out of the shower to come to the Urgent Care. We haven't even been home 30 minutes from her brother's cabin and she's dripping wet having just showered away the weekend grime. I notice out of the corner of my eye Sam in the adjacent room doing push-ups, our favorite form of discipline. He clearly feels remorse. Bird quickly dries off and rushes into the kitchen. In that time we begin piecing together what has happened. After I left the boys having warned them off each other Justin went to the office to play a game. Sam followed and hit Justin then turning to flee. Justin gave pursuit and Sam tried to shut the office door behind him. The result being that he tried to shut Justin's head in the door as they were both running out. Only now do we notice the enormous goose egg growing on the opposite side of Justin's head. So equipped with a moist compress on one side of Justin's head and an ice pack on the other side we usher everyone back into the car.
When we arrive at the Urgent Care we are lucky enough to be the only ones there so Justin get attention quickly. With Justin on the table I put Sam in a nearby seat to be certain he can see what's happening. The nurse cleans up the wound and asks us a series of questions. When she asks if Justin has any medical problems my response is, "Justin's only medical problem is sitting over here in the chair." Even though Sam is only six he gets the joke, but the mood in the room is lightening a bit and it was all in good humor. This whole time I'm hoping Justin's shoes stay on his filthy feet for fear that the nurse will think we don't bathe our children. I, myself, try to stand back a little as I haven't showered since Friday. Then the doctor comes in to look, but before she says anything I have to get my two-cents in. By this point we've had experience with staples, glue, and stitches - all the major forms of surface repair - and I have my preference for stitches. They are sturdy and yet easy to remove. I also want the doctor to know that Justin has hockey to think about and I want her decision to include this fact. Yes, even at this time I'm thinking about hockey two days in advance. It seems, however, that she was thinking he would require stitches the whole time and my worries were unnecessary.
I warn Justin that he's going to get a shot to numb the spot so in turn he asks the doctor if it is going to hurt. She tells him straight out, "A little, but not as much as [the stitches would otherwise]." I think Justin appreciates this truth (as do I) and he appears to be ready for what is to come. So equipped with her needle of Lidocaine the doctor starts administering the shots telling Justin, "Now you'll feel a pinch and a little burn." Four times we watch as he goes rigid and winces from the shots. Bird holds his hand while I put my hand on his leg and as uncomfortable as it is to watch I know it is worse for Justin. Sam gets an eyefull though and takes his own medicine so-to-speak. After that three stitches go in easily and Justin hops off the table nearly like nothing is wrong. He gets over the experience so quickly I am actually a little shocked.
So we head home (again) only a little worse for the wear. Sam seems to comprehend the severity of the situation with an abnormal clarity on his part and for this he is given no extra discipline apart from what was already self-administered. Justin (aka Lumpy), on the other-hand, has a new badge of honor.
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