The Hokey Pokey
I haven't completed a real post in a while; mainly pictures and such so where to begin? It's been an eventful week I suppose you could say, with much of it spent in a sleepy haze as Andy, Noah and I try to rebuild our REM's...
On Tuesday night, while sending the boys on one final mission to clean up their toys before bed, I heard a painful cry come from Noah in the other room. Now in years past, this mother would have sped like a lightening bolt to protect and nurture her little one, but as it turns out, this mother no longer lives in a household where painful cries mean much more than "he took my hot wheel!"
I casually sauntered (yes, I saunter...) into the next room to see who took what from whom this time. I was met with this image: Noah standing at the top of the stairs crying his little eyes out and Elliott, armed with a look a genuine concern on his face, standing 3 stairs down from him carrying an armful of toys to clean up. When Elliott saw me, he dropped everything (quite literally).
"I DIDN'T DO IT!"
(Okay, that was cute!)
"You didn't?" (arms instantly crossed, tapping my foot)
"NO! I SWEAR!"
"You're sure you had nothing to do with this?" (eyebrows raised)
"NO! MOM! HE JUST STARTED CRYING!"
Hmmm. He sure does look serious about this one. (Oh yes, the crying child...)
I turned my attention to little howling Noah, whose crying has not yet ceased in volume or intensity. He was covering his eyes with his hands and mutting all kinds of inaudible garble between sobs. Though I rocked and hugged him, he wouldn't calm down long enough to tell momma what happened. Finally, he mustered up all of his strength and organized thinking long enough to confess "I POKED MYSELF IN DA EYE!"
OHHHHH! It's all so clear now!
Two hours later, things were still very animated at our home. Noah, when awake, cried terribly. He wouldn't open his eyes, nor would he allow us to see what damage had occurred. Not that we didn't try, mind you! We wrestled him into numerous positions in order to secure his flailing arms and legs long enough to take a peek. As it turns out, this little guy is one strong kid!
Finally, at 11 o'clock PM, we allowed our fretting to overcome us and took him into the local Emergency Room. By this time, the little guy was so exhausted, he could hardly whimper. After the very long and drawn out registration and waiting period in the ER, we were seen by a doctor and told that Noah indeed scratched his eye. With orange dye in his eye and the aid of a black light, we were able to see the location and severity of the scratch that went straight down the pupil of his left eye. We were told that the scratch would likely heal on its own and to give him audible for the pain and blah blah blah. They didn't make him wear a patch which was good - that could have been an interesting power struggle at home. At 2 o'clock AM, we finally fell into bed only to wake up 3 and 4 hours later.
I need a nap!
On Tuesday night, while sending the boys on one final mission to clean up their toys before bed, I heard a painful cry come from Noah in the other room. Now in years past, this mother would have sped like a lightening bolt to protect and nurture her little one, but as it turns out, this mother no longer lives in a household where painful cries mean much more than "he took my hot wheel!"
I casually sauntered (yes, I saunter...) into the next room to see who took what from whom this time. I was met with this image: Noah standing at the top of the stairs crying his little eyes out and Elliott, armed with a look a genuine concern on his face, standing 3 stairs down from him carrying an armful of toys to clean up. When Elliott saw me, he dropped everything (quite literally).
"I DIDN'T DO IT!"
(Okay, that was cute!)
"You didn't?" (arms instantly crossed, tapping my foot)
"NO! I SWEAR!"
"You're sure you had nothing to do with this?" (eyebrows raised)
"NO! MOM! HE JUST STARTED CRYING!"
Hmmm. He sure does look serious about this one. (Oh yes, the crying child...)
I turned my attention to little howling Noah, whose crying has not yet ceased in volume or intensity. He was covering his eyes with his hands and mutting all kinds of inaudible garble between sobs. Though I rocked and hugged him, he wouldn't calm down long enough to tell momma what happened. Finally, he mustered up all of his strength and organized thinking long enough to confess "I POKED MYSELF IN DA EYE!"
OHHHHH! It's all so clear now!
Two hours later, things were still very animated at our home. Noah, when awake, cried terribly. He wouldn't open his eyes, nor would he allow us to see what damage had occurred. Not that we didn't try, mind you! We wrestled him into numerous positions in order to secure his flailing arms and legs long enough to take a peek. As it turns out, this little guy is one strong kid!
Finally, at 11 o'clock PM, we allowed our fretting to overcome us and took him into the local Emergency Room. By this time, the little guy was so exhausted, he could hardly whimper. After the very long and drawn out registration and waiting period in the ER, we were seen by a doctor and told that Noah indeed scratched his eye. With orange dye in his eye and the aid of a black light, we were able to see the location and severity of the scratch that went straight down the pupil of his left eye. We were told that the scratch would likely heal on its own and to give him audible for the pain and blah blah blah. They didn't make him wear a patch which was good - that could have been an interesting power struggle at home. At 2 o'clock AM, we finally fell into bed only to wake up 3 and 4 hours later.
I need a nap!
posted by Felecia at Friday, April 28, 2006
6 comments
