A Short Story

I was tending to a bee sting that occurred on my leg moments before I heard a loud crash coming from the living room area. I hurried around the corner to find the changing table pulled over on top of Max. His face was sandwiched between the table and the tile floor. His arm looked bent into an impossible position. I rushed to move the table off of him and get a closer look at his condition. His shrieking cry told me something was definitely wrong since Max is not one to react to physical pain unless it's serious. 

I was relieved to find his injuries were not as bad as I initially thought. He was able to move all limbs and was comforted by hugs and kisses. Then I saw the puncture on his lower lip and that's when I panicked. It was the type of wound that you can see several layers of skin flapping to the side as blood gushes through it. It was so deep that I thought it punctured all the way through to the other side. I applied pressure to the gash while I made calls to several emergency contacts for advice --- all of which did not answer!!! I paced in a few circles when finally I decided that even if I was on the fence about taking him to urgent care, I should just go with my instinct. I would hate to regret something like not taking him. 

Olivia called me as I was loading the kids in the car and gave me some reassurance in my decision, followed by a call from my mother in law. Then Kirk returned my call while in route to the doctor. He was alarmed and left work to meet us immediately. I had calmed down by the time we reached the office and I turned around to see how Max was doing. He was content, holding a towel up to his lip. The cut still looked disgustingly deep, but the bleeding had already subsided on its own. I determined that it had not actually punctured through to the inside, as I originally thought. I considered at this point that perhaps I was overreacting. I took him in anyway and it turns out urgent care office does not treat face wounds. 

The doctor was nice enough to speak with us in the waiting area and give her recommendation just by taking a quick glance at Max. She was insistent that I need to take him to the ER for 2-3 stitches. However, the conspiracy theorist part of my brain told me she was pulling the "doctor-car-salesman technique" on me. My theory is doctors are all in on some cult, prioritizing a dollar over the well being of their patients!!! Greed runs the world!!! Ha. I'm serious though. It's the same scare tactic they use when selling the flu shot and I find it incredibly annoying. I didn't think stitches were necessary anymore, but the word "infection" was lingering in my mind, along with the thought of the wound being in a significant drool zone. 

Anyway, I met Kirk out in the parking lot and relayed the message from the doctor. He checked out Max's face for himself and we both agreed that it was something we could treat at home. We picked up some liquid band-aid along with some ninja turtle band-aids, for the cool effect of course. Max was over it and overall seemed unaffected by the hole in his face. We bandaged him up. And that's the end of this really silly story. 

This tops the charts as Max's most "serious" injury. Although he ended up not requiring stitches, I think I'm still slightly traumatized from the event. I guess I'll consider it a warm up to all the future heart attacks, as I imagine it won't be the last time this fearless boy does something like this. I blame the blood for my overreaction. Oh, and in all this commotion I totally forgot about my bee sting, so that's a plus!

Stagnant Water & Civilizing Caveman

There hasn't been anything blog worthy over the past week or so, but I promise some exciting material is on its way with our upcoming adventures over the next several weeks. July has consisted of a lot of swimming, enjoying summer, and spending time with family and friends. We haven't been making it to the park to play as often, it's fifteen minutes at best before we are all melting. I think I only mention this because I miss our park time and it makes me feel like we are lacking in the active play department, but swimming is good too. Anything to burn off some energy and get these kiddos begging for their beds when night falls. Just kidding. That never happens. The sun does do its job at wearing them out though. Thanks for that, sun. 

Max has decided to be an exceptionally early riser lately. I'm exaggerating. It's actually only been about a half hour earlier than normal, but 30 minutes seems like a long time when I'm in the midst of my slumber. What happened to all of us waking at the same time? I've tried to let my ears do the work while my eyes rest a little longer, but that always turns into a parenting fail. That's when bad things happen --- like when Max approached my side of the bed with an entire can of hair paste in his hair. That was lovely. My ears really let me down on that one. 

I didn't even know Max escaped this morning when he approached my side of the bed holding an unopened ice cold popsicle. I was at least coherent enough to tell him no, but he quickly returned with a frozen yogurt stick instead. I giggled at his cleverness and agreed to let him open that one. I've learned it's best to peel my eyelids off my eyeballs when Max refuses to stay in bed. We snuggled on the couch while big sister slept in a little longer. I wish she could convince Max to operate on that same schedule. Oh well. This life really isn't that rough. 

Max is at his most pleasant self first thing in the morning anyway, so I'm trying to enjoy that time we have together. He's really been giving me a run for my money the rest of the day. He is incredibly naughty. I keep wondering/hoping if he has peeked his naughty point yet, but he continues to astonish me with his mischievous ways. I honestly feel like I'm speaking to a bag of bricks when I ask him to do something. He no longer responds to me and laughs at any glimpse of authority. He literally laughs at everything. He throws food at the dinner table --- laughing. He goes wild in the playroom, throwing toys everywhere. It finally comes to a halt after he tries to pick up the couch and fails. ---- all while laughing. He pulls Lyla's hair --- more laughing. He sneaks out of his bedroom long after bedtime has concluded ---- oh man, this is hysterical. He even laughs in timeout. Nothing phases him. It makes it difficult to discipline because both me and Kirk are constantly covering our faces or hiding behind walls to cover our own laughter. Trying to speak to him with a straight face is nearly impossible. 

There is a dash of anger mixed in with Maxwell's amusement in being disobedient. If he is angry he will fold his arms really tight and pout his lip out. And if he is super pissed he pulls out the high pitched scream. It's all so hilarious to me. Oh, except the screaming. That's been known to blow a fuse. Anyway, it's all very silly because I remember feeling so much more emotional during Lyla's stage of two-berty. I would replay every breakdown and feel like I was failing her. It's sorta funny to think about it now, especially since she has mostly grown out of that irrational behavior. It could be because she is the first child and I dwell on everything when it first happens or perhaps it's just the female energy that creates a more tension. And the fact that she never laughed about being naughty, she took the dramatic route and sobbed about everything. 

On the bright side, Lyla has been enjoying little brother's naughty streak. Max will be doing his thing and this phrase never fails to come from her mouth, "I'm being good, right mom?" We also had to have a little talk about her not being allowed to put Max in timeout. I admire her for taking action, but she is such a dork. I keep thinking about how much I would enjoy a little Max break --- but now that I think of it, Lyla would probably enjoy that just as much. I think I will be arranging some girl time soon. 

They are two very different human beings and I love them both so very dearly. Enjoy the photos!

Idea for Idiots

I read an article somewhere at some point, probably on something stupid like Pinterest or another parenting blog. It suggested to hang portraits at a child's eye level so they can enjoy the artwork and overall decor of their bedroom. What toddler doesn't love an aesthetically pleasing bedroom!? For some reason, I thought this was a brilliant idea. It must be all that pressure to fulfill every single nonexistent desire for my kids. 

Anyway, Max received some superhero canvas wall hangings for Christmas. Kirk must have thought my plan was pretty clever as well, since he hung up all four canvas pieces without his usual skepticism of my ideas. I will acknowledge that the low hanging art theory did attract Max's attention, Lyla too actually. They both like to match up the action figures with the appropriate superhero on the wall....and then rip them down when they finish! Those poor canvases didn't even last an hour on that wall. I have hung them back up repeatedly, yet I continue to find them stacked on the floor. So, unless you plan on using a super heavy duty glue to attach a portrait at eye level for a child...this is probably the WORST idea anyone has ever had. 

The end. 

Side note: Max's new thing is wanting to layer his t-shirts. He is wearing a total of three in these photos. I think it's the early stages of wanting to dress himself. It actually works out pretty great cause he still drools an absurd amount, so now I can just take off a shirt and bam! He's fresh again.