My Son Is Trying To Kill Me

No really.  I think, he, in the early morning hours before he bursts into my bedroom, takes a moment of reflection to really think about what kind of horrors he can thrust upon me in my waking hours.

I'm at the YMCA.  I love it there!  It seriously is a home away from home.  A place where I can go and no one judges me, everyone knows my name and the whole staff is well aware of the history of my children... especially my son.  Despite the fact that the front desk people know way too much about me and my "fantastic" parenting skills they seem to like me anyway.

It almost looks like this... almost.

Anywho, I'm at the YMCA bright and early on a monday morning.  I had dropped my eldest off at her speech therapy and I was planning on taking the twins to the mommy and me class that the Y offers at 9 in the morning.  Well, I get there super early, like 8:30, which never happens so I proceed to wait in the lobby until it's our time.

Everything is going well.  The kids are happy to not be going home and they are ecstatic that they won't be spending the morning in kid-care and may actually be able to do something that involves them for a change.  So they are being adorable in the lobby.  Making cute faces at the little old ladies at the high top tables who are enjoying their complementary coffees. (Oh, yes and yesser!  My Y has coffee!)

I'm sitting on a couch directly across from these little old ladies.  My youngest is on my right and my son is bouncing on the couch to my left.  "Don't do that, you're gonna hurt yourself." passively slips from my lips.  This phrase is seriously on  repeat in my brain.  Mostly, because anything my son does involves an immediate trip to the ER.

So I'm watching my youngest who is right beside me as I make mental notes of all the places my son is running to in my peripheral.

Side note:  I have taken a break from Facebook and email and overall checking my phone for anything but phone calls while I am with my kids.  It has come to my attention that even though my children are semi-independent they are still without good judgment when it comes to things like falling or physics in general.  So I have made a conscious decision to be more attentive to my children.

Facebook, please, I am trying to parent.

All the good it does me.  Out of the corner of my eye I watch my son pull so hard on one of these high top tables that the whole thing comes down directly on top of him.  (Remember my post last week about what an awesome mom I am?  Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is pay back)

My first thought is, Oh my God I just witnessed my son being decapitated.  For sure the whole table came down on his neck and now I'm going to have to stab him with an emptied out pen directly in the trachea just so he can get air to his lungs before the ambulance gets there.  But no, thank God, it just came down on his face.  Whew!  That was a close one.  

The little old ladies jump up to help him as I literally jump from the couch I was on and fly to the area of the floor that my son in now lying on flat on his back with a twenty pound table on top of him.  They tell me, "He's totally fine!  There isn't even any blood!" as I raise him from the floor covered in this now mysterious red liquid flowing from his nose.

He is screaming like a banshee, which everyone knows is normal, and points at his face.  I'm thinking he gashed the inside of his mouth, he's teeth are shattered, his nose is broken.  At first glance, he looks alright but after a quick call to the pediatrician we realize that a concussion is now in the runnings for life threatening injuries.

After filling out an incident report at the Y, (Yeah, it was that bad)  I rush him over to the pediatricians. I gotta make it fast since I gotta get my oldest at school in an hour.  Is it bad that the first thing I said to one of the girls at the Y was that I didn't have time to take him to the ER again?

At the Doctors, Directly after.

later that day.  After Motrin, mind you.

that's not his tongue, that's his lip.

 Turns out my sons face is not only beautiful, but also made out of titanium.  Nothing was wrong.  No concussion, no stitches needed, no teeth knocked out.  Just one really fat lip...  I mean the thing was out past his nose... for like 4 days.  It's better now.

The moral of the story?  It doesn't matter if you play Words With Friends or Facebook or Pintrest or not.  Your kid is still gonna hurt himself.  At least you won't be able to see the damage happen before your very eyes while you're trying to get that high score.

Antenella