I've suddenly realized that being a parent is slowly turning me into an optimist. I've never been one of those "glass half-full" type people. I've always been more of a "This glass is half empty, and look, there's a crack in it too!" sort of people. But I've realized that when I look back on this week, I feel like we've had really good luck. The things that have gone wrong are so minor compared to what they could be. So I guess I'm slowly turning into an optimist. Or at least a "look at the bright side" kinda person.
Saturday night we spent hours in the e.r. with Sam. He suddenly started having excruciating stomach and chest pains during dinner, so I took him to urgent care. The doctor in urgent care heard "a strange noise" in Sam's abdomen, and sent us to the e.r. After a bunch of tests, and i.v. fluids, we were sent home with a clean bill of health. And I just kept thinking about how lucky I was to have a healthy kid. The whole time we were there I was panicking inside about all the things that could be wrong. But there wasn't anything. Other than a boring old case of gastroenteritis (aka fancy big word for "upset tummy") Whew.
Then on Wednesday, I was at a local park with Paul. Enjoying a sunny day, visiting with some friends. Paul and the other 3 little boys were all getting along amazingly well. They were taking turns on the slide, sharing snacks with each other, and just having a lot of fun. Until Paul started screaming and running toward me. I ran over to him, and he had his hand over his eye and cheek, and there was blood. A lot of blood. A man on a big industrial size lawn mower had gone by on a hill nearby, and the lawnmower had shot something (a rock? a stick? we never did find out exactly what) out of the back. It hit Paul in the face, about an inch below his right eye, and ricocheted off and scraped the bridge of his nose. But it missed his eye. After the initial panic and dealing with a hysterical, bleeding child, that was all that I could think about. It missed his eye. We were so lucky.
And the parks department people were very apologetic, and really handled the situation well. They called the local EMS, who came out right away (with a little more "help" than we needed--an ambulance, another EMS van, and two police cars!) and checked him over. The paramedics cleaned up the cuts, and offered us a ride in the ambulance to the e.r. for stitches. I turned down the ride (because we'd have no way to get home if we left our car at the park!) and said I'd be fine to get him to the doctor now that he'd calmed down and the bleeding had slowed down. They did give us a ride in the ambulance across the park and over to our car in the parking lot. Paul thought this was pretty cool, and enjoyed telling all of his friends at preschool about how he got to ride in a "real ambulance!!"
He was a really tough little guy, and didn't even cry when the doctor did the sutures. He had three stitches, and just sat there on the exam table with his eyes closed, talking to Clark and I (who were doing our best to keep him distracted) about who his favorite Pokemon characters are. He flinched a little when the needle was going in, but never complained.
Here's Paul, shortly after getting the stitches.
