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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

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Here’s the thing, no matter how long you have been a mom or how many children you have sometimes you just don’t know what to do. Today was one of those days.

We had a perfectly lovely Sunday. An uplifting and insightful church service. Friendly chats with people that we really enjoy. Lunch with the kids where no one threw food, puked, spilled drinks, or was otherwise unruly/difficult/embarrassing. Dallas and the stupid dog and I got to go for a nice walk on a truly gorgeous Alaska day. No one slipped on the ice. The stupid dog did not run off. We did not encounter any moose blocking our path. Then, our friends brought their 2 little guys over for my teenage daughter to babysit. The kids were occupied. Loud, but occupied.

Then the screaming started. All mom’s know that cry, the one that tells you your child is hurt. I was downstairs putting away that vacuum when I heard it. As I came up I heard Dallas saying, “Oh buddy, what happened?” My poor Jackson was crying. A lot. Jackson is usually pretty tough, I knew it was bad.

When he lifted his head I saw the blood dripping down his little 4-year-old eyelid.


I don’t know what happened. I was not in the room. Jackson said Reese pushed him into the closet. Reese said Jackson fell. As always, the truth was probably somewhere in the middle. We think that he hit his eye on a shelf bracket that was on the floor.

At least three weeks ago the twinkies tried to climb those shelves. The brackets gave and they pancaked on the floor. I never picked them up. No mom of the year award for me today.

The cut looked deep, but it was pretty hard to see. The inevitable question is stitch or no stitch? It was oozing blood. Not a lot of blood, but enough to make me nervous.

Can they stitch an eyelid?

Would he allow them to stitch it?

Would I go to the ER, wait 3 hours, only to be laughed at by the nurses and doctors for overreacting?

I did the only thing that made sense. I took to Facebook. I can think of at least 5 ‘friends’ who are nurses, so they could surely tell me if the cut was stitch-worthy.

No luck. Plenty of responses, just none from nurses.

My friend Autumn and her husband came back to pick up their boys. Her opinion was just to watch it. She also said that was maybe not the best choice.

Thanks for nothing.

So, here I sit. Jackson’s eye looked a little better after his bath. I put him to bed.

But tomorrow if his eye is bloody and swollen I’ll be too busy un-friending to blog.


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