This Friday, you actually get the story of the week, peppered with quotes (as noted by the fancy-shmancy italics). This is a doozie and totally sums up life with five kids. Enjoy.
Last Friday afternoon, just before naptime, the kids were playing hide-n-go seek. All fine and dandy until someone gets hurt, right? I call them out of my bedroom and I hear a WHACK, then a THUD, see John Paul walk out of my room sheepishly and hear a WAAAA from Clare. She walks out holding her arm.
Mom-radar kicked in and I immediately knew the following things to be true:
1. John Paul had hurt his sister.
2. Possibly on purpose.
3. Clare had nursemaid’s elbow.
4. The ER visit would cost us around $400 smackeroos (hopsital room, ER doc, x-ray + a valium for me).
5. I was completely peeved.
John Paul got sent to timeout while I muttered something like, “Your piggy bank better have $400 bucks, mister.”
I took Clare upstairs to her room and tried to bend her arm.
“MOMMY THAT HURTS!” she wailed.
“D****T,” I tried to say quietly.
Will softly whispers, “I heard that, Mom.”
Proof that I did not.
Before I call Scott, I decide to text my college roommate whose husband is an ER doc. Todd knows us well. This would be, after all, our THIRTEENTH visit to the ER. Can I just say that is wrong on so, so, SO many levels? While I’m waiting to hear back, I call Scott and say, “Well, are you ready to start off the weekend with a bang?”
In the meantime, Clare is continuing to cry, I get Luke down for a nap, John Paul is in timeout and Will and Anna-Laura are doing their best to keep C calm.
I hang up the phone and hear the familiar ‘ding’ on my phone. Incoming text says Todd is not at work, but I can call him on his cell. I call, get the voicemail, leave a slightly exhasperated message and hope that he calls back soon.
Clare is still crying, Luke is (thankfully) still sleeping, John Paul is still sitting in timeout, W and ALG are still doing a great job and I’m still muttering under my breath.
The phone rings and it’s Dr. Todd on the other end of the line. We chat briefly about how it all went down and then I ask, “So, should I take her to the ER or could we swing by the Urgent Care place across the street?”
“Well, do you want to fix it yourself?” he says.
Hallelujah, baby. “YES!” I reply, perhaps a bit too enthusiasticly?
I put Dr. T on speakerphone and less than a minute later the crying has ceased and the elbow is fixed.
I practically scream in the phone, “Holy smokes, Todd. You. Are. So. Awesome.”
Then I text his wife: “Todd is awesome. Walked me thru it on the phone. All better. Tell him he has a six pack of beer with his name ALL over it.”
Oh, yeah. Momma has skillz.
As I’m walking down the stairs, I hear a tiny little voice say, “So, Mom. Can I get out of timeout now?”
He’s still sitting there.
And that, my sweet readers, is your SOTW!