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My Youngest Child

Can I scream now?

It is my youngest, not my oldest, who is going to give me a heart attack before I'm 35.

She is the queen. The Boo Boo Queen.

She jumps from off of the highest point in the house to land on a toy that wasn't there a moment ago and hurt her back, leg, arm or head. She smacks into her own bed.

The child trips over her own two feet or the slightest breeze.

Last night, while running around with bubby, she trips, falls, bonks and starts to cry.

This is common so I don't think anything of it.

Until I hear Camden having convulsions in the kitchen floor (I was in the basement) because his sissy was bleeding.

I go running. Blood is everywhere. Streaming off her face.

I panic. I know, you are not supposed to, but this was unusual for her to say the least.

She is sitting there bawling with her hand over her right eye. When I get the hand away her eye is so full of blood that I think she has poked her eye out.

So I call 911. By the time they arrive (within like 2 minutes), she is watching TV, I'm holding her trying not to cry myself and maintain some calm, her eye is still in her head, and there is this half inch vertical gouge down her forehead above her right eye.

They get there to find her and me covered in blood but her sucking her thumb and laughing at the Power Puff Girls.

They checked her out, said that she would need stitches, asked how it happened. As I was in the basement I could not say, so Camden jumps in and tells them the whole story.

By this time he is very calm.

I'm thankful that Billy's girlfriend Donna was there with me. She took Camden outside so that he could see the fire truck and the ambulance.

I told the paramedics I would transport her to the hospital. They were like, can you drive? I said, no, but I will find someone who will.

So after not being able to reach my own mother, I called Billy at work who called his mom who was at my house in such a flash.

Hey, the woman has 7 children. The first 4 being boys. She knows what it is like to be in the ER on a daily basis.

We arrive at the ER to discover 15 people ahead of us and a 5 or so hour wait.

So I went outside and called Urgent Care. After answering many questions over the phone to the nurse, the dr gets on and asks a few and then says, bring her in.

So as soon as we walk in the door at Urgent Care they immediately ushered us into the triage and have the paperwork already ready for me to complete.

We waited all of 10 minutes for the dr who assessed the situation and had me put this stuff on her forehead to start the numbing process.

Once he was ready, she was strapped into the papaoose thing. Then he started putting needles in her head to numb it further.

Needless to say, she was not happy with this.

The entire procedure probably took 20 minutes with the careful stitching, her screaming her head off, and four of us holding her down even though she was strapped into that papaoose thing.

She lost her shoe during her ordeal. We recoverd it and put it back on her.

She screamed for her PoPo (Big Don - her grandfather), she screamed that she could not see me (they had this thing over her head to catch most of the blood), she screamed for her bubby. After a bit she started telling the Dr. that she was done. This cracked him up. He was like, are you done?
She said, yeah. He said, I'm not done. She was like, I don't care, let me out of here. Then Let Me Out became her scream of choice. Let me out and I am done.

By the time he finished, and she calmed down, he was chuckling at her.

She had one internal stitch and five external ones.

Before the dr got started he said to me - mom, if it starts getting hot in here or the room starts to spin, I want you to sit down right where you are standing. Because I don't want to have to stitch you up too.

Half way through I said, Rebecka, you're lucky daddy isn't here, he'd be lying on that other bed over there.

The dr said I would probably not be surprised then to know that most fathers pass out while mom is like, superwoman.

No, this does not surprise me one bit.

But it still is extremely upsetting.

When we left Urgent Care we went straight to Sonic (a restaraunt) where Billy works. They were closed but Billy and crew were there cleaning up.

Tammy drove into the drive thru and honked. Billy unlatched the window and asked Rebecka what she wanted and she said Chocolate Shake Bill Bill.

So that is what she got and Tammy and I got cokes.

I took her home, called her daddy as daddy had called as I was walking out the door. She spoke to her PoPo and told him she had an owie, a boo boo.

Then she talked to daddy and told him the same.

Then daddy says to me, either bubble wrap or tie a pillow to everything in the house that she can hurt herself on. I said, thats like telling me to bubble wrap or tie pillows to her. He said, do both. Or invest in a rubber house.

Um, this does not work.

That is my child. The klutz. The queen of the boo boo people. The child who will cause me to have an early heart attack with her antics.

Of course Camden was totally jealous of all of the attention that sissy was getting. And when I got home it showed big time.

She still needed a bath and to brush her teeth, etc. So he was leaning on me as I was bathing her without getting her boo boo wet and cleaning her hair of blood.

I DO feel for Camden. But there are just times.

I told him that this was NOT the way to get my attention and to not try to hurt himself on purpose.

He had a boo boo on his hand when I got home. Things that make you go hummmmmm.

So I'm running on empty today. I'm ready for my nap.

I'm ready to cuddle my kids and pass out.

Yet I'm here. At work. Diligently.

SCREAMS Silently.



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