Battle Ready

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Every time I’ve completely freaked out when my kids have vomited, I’ve always told myself that I would redeem myself as a mother and a caretakers when there was blood and/or broken bones.  I’d keep a calm head, I wouldn’t panic and I’d absolutely, positively not hide in my laundry room for 15 minutes at a time like I do now when someone pukes.

The only problem is that my self soothing was all theoretical as I had never had to test my theory with anything other then minor scrapes and bumps so far.  Until this weekend.

Saturday morning, I ran my first 5K (yeah!) and even made it back home in time for the last inning of Scorch’s t-ball game.  I was thrilled, the kids were thrilled and the Hubs was thrilled because he didn’t have to deal with Hurricane Bean all the while trying to help coach.  I watched Scorch and his team bat and then got pulled away when they were in the field because Bean and her buddies wanted to play their own toddler t-ball game and I was the star pitcher.  All was well until I heard Scorch cry out and one of the moms grabbed me and told me he got hit in the nose with the ball.  I turned in time to see the the Hubs scoop Scorch, with his bleeding face, up and run him to the bathroom.

It’s go time.  I’m ready. I have my water bottle to clean away the blood and a pack of tissues one of the other moms thrust at me as I ran by.  I’m very concerned, but I’m not panicked and best of all- I’m running towards my kid and his bodily fluids, not away from him.  Clearly, I am Super Mom.

Only problem is, I’m married to a former EMT and general do-gooder- just the kind of man who you want around when bad things happen, except during times you’re trying to redeem yourself.  The Hubs took charge and basically wouldn’t let me near Scorch until he assessed his wounds, cleaned him up and calmed him down.  And Scorch, bless his little heart, was totally and completely fine with that as Daddy had already proven himself in battle time and again.

Thankfully, Scorch is totally fine. The ball hit him in the lips, not the nose.  While his lips were swollen and cut, he didn’t need any stitches and kept all his teeth.  As for me, I’ll wait as long as it takes (hopefully a really really long time- like never) to prove myself again.

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About Heather

I am the lucky mom to two kids. Scorch is my baseball obsessed 9 year old son and Bean is my crazy, loving 7 year old little girl. I'm happily married to the Hubs. We live in the middle of nowhere with two cats and one certifiably crazy dog.

2 responses »

  1. Reminds me of the time with you, a baseball bat and my sister’s head and my mom running around like a mad woman, dragging my sister around by the head until Mrs Slick (I think it was her) told her to stay still. You did much better than that, so mad props to you!

    • I told that story on Saturday- still one of the single most scariest experiences of my life! I’m so glad I’m FB friends with your sister so I can watch her awesome life unfold and know that I didn’t cause any permanent damage!

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