As I sit down to write this morning, I am painfully aware that my life is becoming a bad country song. My house is broke, my grandmother broke, my car broke (for the second time since we broke our house), I broke, and now my boy broke, and it is slowly making my husband and I go broke.
I know, I know, oh woest me. It can only get better, but I am starting to get a little scared to keep saying that, because I am fairly sure that the Murphy’s Law Gang is somewhere going…YEEEEHAAAWWW she said it again!
My eldest had a “thing” at the library. So we went there…I should have known better…the dreaded library…bad things seem to happen to my family in that building, and this is the second emergency room visit that has occurred under the curse of that building! (Yeah, I do realize that I spend a lot of time there, and I work there, which quite possibly is tempting fate a tad)
So I am having a lovely conversation about the meeting that I had to go to later that night when I hear a shriek from the back corner… I may sound a little insensitive here, but in my defense the boy tends to shriek over hangnails, scrapes and let us not forget the limping incident, so I sort of casually turned around…and droned my automated response “you’re OK Henry”
Yeah, this is when I feel like a complete ASS, because Pam, the woman I was currently talking to, became a transformer, turned into “Super Nurse” and ran over to him. (yeah, she does kinda rock…)
She looks at me and says “He is probably going to need stitches Hon.”
The kind of jolts me from insensitive mom thinking he scraped his knee, to cupping my hand over his forehead to keep the buckets of blood from getting into his eyes. (You know head wounds) I will give myself some credit here, I did remain calm. Even when I had to physically hold my kid down while they gave him stitches, only to have him screaming at the top of his lungs “PLEEEAASE GET OFF MOMMY” “PLEEEEAAAASE MAKE THEM STOP MOMMY” I remained calm.
Needless to say, not only was my heart ripped out of my chest by his pleading, but when we walked back out into the waiting room there were a few traumatized waiting patients and parents, with eyes wide staring at my kid. Who at this point was bouncing around and asking for a sticker. I am not sure if anyone canceled their appointment, but I can’t say that I would have blamed them…it sounded like that scene from Law and Order about re-birthing.
But as you can see, little man is fine, stitched up (which he calls his “itches”) and already climbing he walls. Let’s hope that there is an ending to this country song soon, I am not sure my heart or my wallet can take it!
I know, I know, oh woest me. It can only get better, but I am starting to get a little scared to keep saying that, because I am fairly sure that the Murphy’s Law Gang is somewhere going…YEEEEHAAAWWW she said it again!
My eldest had a “thing” at the library. So we went there…I should have known better…the dreaded library…bad things seem to happen to my family in that building, and this is the second emergency room visit that has occurred under the curse of that building! (Yeah, I do realize that I spend a lot of time there, and I work there, which quite possibly is tempting fate a tad)
So I am having a lovely conversation about the meeting that I had to go to later that night when I hear a shriek from the back corner… I may sound a little insensitive here, but in my defense the boy tends to shriek over hangnails, scrapes and let us not forget the limping incident, so I sort of casually turned around…and droned my automated response “you’re OK Henry”
Yeah, this is when I feel like a complete ASS, because Pam, the woman I was currently talking to, became a transformer, turned into “Super Nurse” and ran over to him. (yeah, she does kinda rock…)
She looks at me and says “He is probably going to need stitches Hon.”
The kind of jolts me from insensitive mom thinking he scraped his knee, to cupping my hand over his forehead to keep the buckets of blood from getting into his eyes. (You know head wounds) I will give myself some credit here, I did remain calm. Even when I had to physically hold my kid down while they gave him stitches, only to have him screaming at the top of his lungs “PLEEEAASE GET OFF MOMMY” “PLEEEEAAAASE MAKE THEM STOP MOMMY” I remained calm.
Needless to say, not only was my heart ripped out of my chest by his pleading, but when we walked back out into the waiting room there were a few traumatized waiting patients and parents, with eyes wide staring at my kid. Who at this point was bouncing around and asking for a sticker. I am not sure if anyone canceled their appointment, but I can’t say that I would have blamed them…it sounded like that scene from Law and Order about re-birthing.
But as you can see, little man is fine, stitched up (which he calls his “itches”) and already climbing he walls. Let’s hope that there is an ending to this country song soon, I am not sure my heart or my wallet can take it!
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment