The other day was a rough one for Jakob. Not only was he dead tired from staying out so late the night before, but the universe was just doing everything it could to do harm to him.
It all began with the toe. His pinky toe. Dragged on the floor and into the coffee table leg which produced a little cut. He was fine, I was upstairs folding clothes and heard him cry, but once I called down to ask if everything was ok, both boys yelled up that they were. Jakob just stubbed his toe.
Not five minutes later did Jakob come into my bedroom and I eyed the blood on his little toe.
"Let mommy look at your toe Jakob." The hysterics started.
"Let mommy at least wash off the blood." The hysterics continued. Well, being a mom, there are sometimes you just have to do something you don't like doing. For me it was picking him up and running his toe under the water with him kicking and screaming. Once this was done I placed him on my bed and told him I would prop his foot up.
"Don't touch it!" Jakob was very adamant about this. I assured him that I was just propping his feet up.
Later I made a trip to the grocery store, when I got back I had heard of Jakob's run in with a closet door and a mangled finger. It was brought to me in a way that it sounded like his finger had been broken, but when I finally got a chance to see it, it was just smashed and cut. Worse than his toe that is for sure.
So back into mommy's bed for some more pampering and reassurance that I would not touch it, but only look at it. While he was asleep I was able to sneak a closer peak and boy, he was not going to be happy but it was going to have to be cleaned.
I planned my attack hoping that I would not damage my child for the rest of his life. A bath would help clean it, but once I got him into those warm towels I would be able to hold him down and make sure it was clean and apply a band-aid for the evening.
All went well, until I had him in his towels cleaning his finger. The screams and the cries broke my heart, but I had to remind myself that if I didn't do this his thumb would fall off from rot. Ok, not really, but it needed to be cleaned that is for sure.
I held him and whispered in his ear that it was ok, that I was helping it.
"NO TOU, NO TOU" (he doesn't pronounce the ch in touch.)I felt horrible, I wanted to melt into the floor.
It was over soon (which actually felt like 5 hours) and his thumb was all bandaged up for the evening. We sat on the floor together, me with my arms around him as he snuggled into my chest. I rocked him and asked him if he was ok now and how was his thumb.
This is the response I got:
"no mommy. me fweaking out!"
The words of Jakob, he makes is so clear.
It all began with the toe. His pinky toe. Dragged on the floor and into the coffee table leg which produced a little cut. He was fine, I was upstairs folding clothes and heard him cry, but once I called down to ask if everything was ok, both boys yelled up that they were. Jakob just stubbed his toe.
Not five minutes later did Jakob come into my bedroom and I eyed the blood on his little toe.
"Let mommy look at your toe Jakob." The hysterics started.
"Let mommy at least wash off the blood." The hysterics continued. Well, being a mom, there are sometimes you just have to do something you don't like doing. For me it was picking him up and running his toe under the water with him kicking and screaming. Once this was done I placed him on my bed and told him I would prop his foot up.
"Don't touch it!" Jakob was very adamant about this. I assured him that I was just propping his feet up.
Later I made a trip to the grocery store, when I got back I had heard of Jakob's run in with a closet door and a mangled finger. It was brought to me in a way that it sounded like his finger had been broken, but when I finally got a chance to see it, it was just smashed and cut. Worse than his toe that is for sure.
So back into mommy's bed for some more pampering and reassurance that I would not touch it, but only look at it. While he was asleep I was able to sneak a closer peak and boy, he was not going to be happy but it was going to have to be cleaned.
I planned my attack hoping that I would not damage my child for the rest of his life. A bath would help clean it, but once I got him into those warm towels I would be able to hold him down and make sure it was clean and apply a band-aid for the evening.
All went well, until I had him in his towels cleaning his finger. The screams and the cries broke my heart, but I had to remind myself that if I didn't do this his thumb would fall off from rot. Ok, not really, but it needed to be cleaned that is for sure.
I held him and whispered in his ear that it was ok, that I was helping it.
"NO TOU, NO TOU" (he doesn't pronounce the ch in touch.)I felt horrible, I wanted to melt into the floor.
It was over soon (which actually felt like 5 hours) and his thumb was all bandaged up for the evening. We sat on the floor together, me with my arms around him as he snuggled into my chest. I rocked him and asked him if he was ok now and how was his thumb.
This is the response I got:
"no mommy. me fweaking out!"
The words of Jakob, he makes is so clear.
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