Ya, I'm one of those moms.
But obviously dear reader you haven't had enough. Or perhaps you thought that this was a post about a Rambo movie. If such is the case, you might want to stop reading now.
As the title suggests, Kio has survived his first injury. In fact, of the two of us, I'm the one who is probably more worse for wear after the whole event. But now that it has been a few days, and I have pulled myself together, there is some humor to be found in the debacle.
When looking back on a not-so-fun mommy moment, I find that a little prose is the sugar that helps the medicine go down.
And thus our story begins...
The night was moist.
he he he
Sorry, any chance to reference the film, "Throw Mama from the Train" must be taken advantage of when at all possible.
On with the story (for real this time).
It was a bitterly cold night in the dead of winter. Mama H, Baby H and Feline H were all nestled snugly in their beds. As dawn was slowly approaching Mama H was trying desperately to prolong her dream of warmer climes, before facing the frigid state of her abode.
A pristine beach, not a soul to be found for miles. Turquoise water, white sand, a tall Mojito nestled in the cup holder of a comfy beach lounge chair.
Literally the stuff that dreams are made of.
Mama H languidly reaches for her drink when a piercing scream rips through the scene.
Unable to wrench herself out of such a tranquil moment, she begins to settle back into her lounge chair but the scream is getting louder and strangely closer...
Mama H bolts out of bed and leaps across the room in a single bound. She finds Baby H is sitting in his crib looking like something out of a horror movie; blood bubbling from his mouth, staining his sheets and pajamas.
She scoops up the distraught bundle and turns on the light in order to better survey the macabre scene.
First Baby H.
He is inconsolable. There is blood pouring from his mouth. His top lip is swollen and he has what appears to be the beginning of a black eye.
Next the crib.
There is blood on the sheet and railing. Mama H has seen enough to put together the events that lead to the grizzly mess before her. Baby H woke to find that Mama H was still in a deep slumber. Being the sweet boy that he is, he decided to let her finish that Mojito on the beach, and put in some time practicing his 'stand'. And some point into said 'stand', he found himself hurtling towards the railing of his crib.
Although it felt like an eternity had passed for Mama H, it was in fact mere seconds from the time that she had scooped up her injured boy to coming to the realization of what had happened. Her next thought?
To the hospital!
With the hysterical babe in tow, Mama H ran to her closet to grab a pair of socks and a bra - the two things that she deemed necessary to complete her outfit of yoga pants and a now blood stained sweatshirt. But when the poor screaming boy refused to be put down, she settled for the socks and decided that her winter coat would be have to be enough cover for the unsightly situation that was once her glorious rack.
"Car keys, insurance, money, phone..." Mama H rattled off the items as she haphazardly tossed them into her diaper bag. Upon seeing her phone she suddenly thought to call Papa H to tell him that they were headed to the hospital.
As a phone call from home at 5:30 in the morning could only mean trouble, Papa H hurried out of his crowded bar on to the street in order to focus on the situation at hand.
As Mama H began retelling the story she was met with an unusual response, "Calm down."
"I am calm!" came her shaken reply. And then, for the first time in her 37 years, Mama H realized that she was not on top of the situation. She was not calm.
Driving her mother to the emergency room with two broken wrists - on top of the situation.
Seeing her sister through the labour and delivery of her first two children - on top of the situation.
Being jostled by a group of men trying to rob her blind on the streets of New Delhi - stomped all over the situation. Literally.
But there, at that time and place, with her wounded wee boy, Mama H had lost her cool and was shaking into the phone.
Papa H's next question brought her back to reality, "Where is Baby H?"
"He's right here in my arms, can't you hear him screaming..." But as the words came out, Mama H realized that Baby H had stopped crying at about the time that she had finished pulling on her socks with one hand. Upon further inspection she also noticed that he had stopped bleeding.
With Papa H talking her calmly through, Mama H did a good inspection of Baby H's face. His teeth were fine and there were no bumps on his head. Although his top lip was quite swollen, there was only a tiny cut on the inside. And yes, his left eye was looking a little purple but not puffy. And finally there was Baby H himself. He was smiling and yawning as his mom poked and prodded his sore but certainly not permanently damaged face.
As the sun began to creep up over the horizon, Mama H and Baby H snuggled back into bed where Feline H had remained soundly asleep throughout. As they drifted off, Mama H began forming a list of contact sports that her son would never be given the opportunity to play.
~ Fin ~
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