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Stitches and Straitjackets

While out of town, I got a call from my husband that our 12-year old had just received stitches from an injury while playing with his best buddy in our swimming pool. A water gun to the head. Why a “water gun” and not just “water” to the head? Who knows? Boys. Water on the brain.

Flashback to 10 years ago. We were in the waiting area of a nearby photo studio. Logan was seated in front of the TV watching Winnie-the-Pooh while I was trying to brush what was the mess of my daughter’s hair. Out of the blue, Logan starts tipping forward on his seat and crashes head first into the TV, catching the lip of the console. Surprisingly, I did not panic. More surprisingly, I still did not panic when I saw the gaping hole smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

So, I calmly told the photographer that I had to go to the emergency room. She looked at me like I had two heads because we were all so surprisingly calm.

This was my first trip to the ER with one of my kids, being that this was my first BOY child. An accident waiting to happen.

The picture that will remain with me forever was of my son in a straitjacket lying on the table in our little ER cubby hole with a cloth over his head. A baby mummy with one little blue eye peering out at me. Looking at me, imploring me with his one little eye to save him. And I could do nothing. Nothing, but remain surprisingly calm. To this day, I don’t know how I did it. Just kept calm and spoke reassuringly. It’s amazing what a mother can do under the direst of circumstances.

Logan came out of it okay and he didn’t hate me for allowing someone to put a needle in his head and sew him up like Frankenstein. In fact, he wore those stitches like a badge of honor.

This time dad just swung him by the Urgent Care. With his buddy in tow. The same cloth over his head, I’m told, but no straitjacket and no little blue eye peering out. Just the doctor saying “Here comes the needle. It’s getting a little deeper. Yup, you probably can feel that.” And I wasn’t even there to be calm and speak reassuringly. But, he still wore his stitches like a badge of honor. He even went to lacrosse practice just to sit on the sidelines and look all tough-like. And when he told me all about it, I stayed surprisingly calm.

I know there will be many more incidents ahead. I may be there for them, or I may not. But through them all, I will try to remain surprisingly calm. Because, if I reacted with my motherly instinct, I’d be the one they’d be putting in the straitjacket.


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