Be Careful Making Bets


August 13, 2008 by Marj Hatzell

The neighbors and I had this little bet going at the beginning of the summer.  Four families have seven-year-olds that were all learning to ride two-wheelers for the frist time.  They all did it the SAME WEEK, one right after the other.  Peer pressure for the win!  Since we had so many new riders, we alljoked that we were wondering which accident-prone child would end up in the ER first.  We all placed our bets (non-monetary, of course) and waited. Of course, none of us could predict the outcome.  And I’d never in my wildest dreams think it would be one of mine.

I was in a packing frenzy last evening. Bugaboo spent the whole day doing his best human wrecking ball impersonation and I spent the day walking around with crunch crunch crunch under my feet. I literally got nothing done by way of packing, hence my futile efforts last night when he no doubt should have been in bed.  I’m telling you, he was standing next to me and I turned to throw something away.  Two seconds later, we heard CRASH! BOOM!  WAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!  And saw blood, and heard screaming, and it all went so fast.  We jumped in the car after grabbing a towel and swabbing his head for a few minutes.  And here is what we did for nine hours (I dont’ understand why every ER trip has to be NINE HOURS LONG).  Viewer discretion is advised:

Bugaboo’s Boo-Boo.  Only bled for a few minutes but he cried for hours. It was right down to the bone.

What Daddy did the first few hours because he had to work today

(and he’s taking two weeks off starting tomorrow!).

What Mommy did for Nine Hours. Again. At the same hospital as before.

We must stop meeting like this, really, Dr.Pitone.

Making a feeble attempt at removing the No-nos placed on his arms so there might be a chance he’d leave the IV or gash alone.  He chewed the No-nos off with his teeth.  Now you know why we call him Houdini.

Getting the stitches in.  Heavy sedation, thank goodness.

He didn’t remember a thing.  Mommy chooses to block it out.

Showing off his Frankenstein look.  We’ll leave it in for Halloween and stick some bolts in his neck.

We finally got outta there at seven IN THE MORNING, which means, no sleep for Chez DG.  Which means we stopped to get biscuits and gravy because we needed a treat.  Which means we crashed for four hours and woke up at noon and then felt groggy and queasy, and still do.  Which also means I’m praying he sleeps tonight because Mommy needs at least twelve hours.  Bugaboo?  Back to his good-ole-normal-self.  Yup, you’d never know. Plenty of energy, plenty of smiles, redecorating the carpet with crackers and cheerios and creating havoc in his wake once again.

See? This is where it pays to be positive.  Sickeningly optomistic folks like me have this thing about creating lemonade outta lemons and putting a positive spin on things.  For example:

I had my camera in my purse, since I was packing for our trip.

it coulda been much worse.  He doesn’t even notice it at this point.

At least it didn’t happen Thursday right before we left!

He was super-duper cooperative, considering his past history with procedures.


The ER was totally NOT busy last night. Plenty of attention, good care, smiles on faces.

He has delayed fine motor skills so he can’t pick the stitches out.  Huzzah!

Once he dozed off I caught a few winks. As in, twenty minutes worth of winks.

We got Biscuits and Gravy for breakfast.

He put himself to bed as soon as we got home.  We put ourselves to bed, too.

My sister lives close enough and already had my son, so she came and grabbed her daughter (who was staying with us) and is back here this afternoon to help out.

The Teenager Down the Street came over to help out so I could camp out on the couch while she chased Bugaboo.  She is incredibly mature and smart and wonderful to have around.  It’s like having my youngest sister here with me, she is so pleasant and happy.  And smaht. As in, I don’t always understand what she is talking about because she’s an honor student. And I was an honor student. Before sleep deprivation and kids, that is. Now I can do crossword puzzles…

I’ve still got tomorrow to pack, right?

7 thoughts on “Be Careful Making Bets

  1. RuthWells says:

    Poor, poor boy! And poor DG! I dearly hope you’re getting some rest RIGHT NOW.

    ERs suck — I’m glad it wasn’t too crowded for you.

  2. Anjali says:

    Poor baby. What a brave little fellow!

  3. Angela says:

    Wow!!! Poor guy–it didn’t burn him out on riding his bike though did it? (I know you wanna hit me for suggesting such a thing…and I know better than to mess with a mama who’s had no sleep so I had it coming.)

    Deep breath woman, you survived!

  4. Tina says:

    Oh, ouch. Poor little guy. And poor you!

  5. BOSSY says:

    Oy! Bossy is so sorry.

  6. Jacki says:

    OUCH! That looks horrible! I hope it heals well. And that you get to pack!

  7. Nadine says:

    Awwww, poor thing!! I hope all is well now, and that it heals nice.

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