Little bitty kids have little bitty problems. It stands to reason that the bigger a kid gets the bigger their problems get.
The cooties a kid catches in elementary school become broken hearts. The tricycle wrecks become fender benders. The lunches eaten at the silent table in the cafeteria become detention if you don’t watch your smart mouth.
Em was fearless as a little girl. She would walk across the back of the couch and race her trike as fast as its teeny wheels would go. There were scrapes and bumps and bruises along the way. But she was never one to cry for terribly long. Her big blue eyes were steely when she was hurt. She was a tough little kid.
She still is.
I rounded the corner of the hallway near the Nurse’s office in school and my heart sank when I heard her crying. Minutes earlier MQD had called and said “Didn’t you see the missed call? Em is hurt. They want you to come and get her. She hit her head on the playground.” I started to fire questions at him and stopped myself. I knew better. He had told me everything he knew.
We live close to the elementary school. It had been fourteen minutes since my missed call. Two minutes to park and walk inside. My baby girl had been crying for sixteen minutes.
I was expecting them to say “It’s protocol that we call a parent when there has been a head injury, we need you to sign this form.” I’d be back at school with Lucy in tow in less than an hour for the Holiday Party.
But she was crying.
I saw her and I dropped to my knees and wiped her hair from her face. She put her arms around my neck like a child of preschool age. I stood and she clung to me, her long legs wrapping around me like they did when she was young. I was lucky that a friend had popped by when I got the call that I needed to go to school. I had run out the door without Lucy. So, for the first time in a long time my big girl was my baby and it was just the two of us. With her head on my shoulder she wept.
A lot of bandaids and ice packs and tears later we were home. A little bit of nausea later we were at the pediatrician. And not long after that we were at the Emergency Room. Somewhere between the doctor’s office and the triage room of the hospital my sleepy, weepy, nauseous big girl turned back in to the stone cold little bruiser she had been as a little, bitty girl.
She hadn’t said much of anything to me in hours. Suddenly she was chatting away to the nurse and the doctor at the ER. She was tired. Rattled. But she was smiling. She looked from left to right, she followed the doc’s finger. She walked up and down the hall and might have even rolled her eyes when they asked her what year it was.
We aren’t out of the woods. I will continue to watch her for worrisome signs. Incidentally if you have never monitored a child for “strange behavior,” it is rather maddening. Small people are weird. They do strange things.
Kids get bigger and their thumps and bumps get bigger, too. I knew this before today. Intellectually, anyway. I can’t yet say I am grateful for the object lesson, Universe. Fingers crossed for an uneventful tomorrow.
Such a cute little girl. She reminds me of each of my three when they were small. Having had the paramedics at my house most weeks for the first half of 2012 for one or the other of my girls, I feel your heartbreak and pain. They tug at our heart-strings when they’re hurt…
Oh, mama! Terrifying and yet yielded such a poignant memory.
I leave for ONE DAY! One day! And this?! Giirrrrrrrlllll….
I’d be all “Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do!”…but she’s like 5th in my line of people to question.
Hope you both are no worse for the wear! Can you crochet an icepack? <3
Poor girl. It’s so hard to see your child hurt. She’s got the best momma to look after her though. And as Jenn said, she’ll have a good story to tell.
She’s gonna have to work on her story. :)
Bless her heart! and yours! So glad she is ok, and I’ve had those calls before. Hope she feels better quick! :)
This morning we are looking much better!!
Oh ouch. I’m convinced the bumps and bruises hurt the mama more than the kid. They are resilient that way. And we, well, we are constantly terrified that way.
Ha! That’s the truth.
Seeing them hurt (physically and/or emotionally) is probably the hardest thing we live through as parents. I hope she gets better soon!
Wow, that had to smart. Hopefully she’s okay. Luckily my ER trips with my kids have been few and far between.
Kids will be the death of me. :)
It feels like it sometimes, but my parents are still around and if I wasn’t the death of them I’m sure mine won’t be the death of me…
It’s a fun ride, though.
Oh sweetie, I know how you feel – spent many days in the ER with Adam. By the time we got to the hospital he was tough as nails again and just wanting to prove how strong he was and how proud he was of the stitches, crutches, splints or whatever. The fearlessness had returned! Much I hated that he was hurt, I loved being needed and was still the mother he needed.
That’s so true. I know my days are numbered when I can still make it all better!
If mommy needs some caring, beside the wonderful love that your hubby and your friends will give you, knock, please. Big hugs to you and your daughter.
Oh, baby. Poor thing. Poor mama, too. My heart sank with you.
Thank you. She appears to be so much better this morning.
Kelly, I did that exact same thing to my face when I was in the 3rd grade and now my family and I laugh about it at family functions. They refer to it as “The Reverse California Incident” because my road rash looked a backwards California.
Ha! The reverse California incident. I love it.