I shared this story about my three-year old last week on my Every Day I See A Cow blog. Then I thought, why not make this a lesson for all parents to learn? Or laugh at. Laugh at me, of course, not my kid. I’m not that cruel, but sometimes laughter is the best medecine. And I really hope he learned his lesson this time. Here’s how the story goes…
Last week I took my three-year old to see his pediatrician for a possible sinus infection from his nasty cold. The pediatrician examined him and gave me a prescription to fill a few days later if he didn’t get any better. I’m happy to report that after almost three weeks of nasty discharge, his nose is starting to clear up. Now, don’t get too excited, I said “starting”. But I think he may clear this one up on his own, eventually.
As we were leaving the exam room, I suddenly heard my son scream his lungs out. I quickly realized he managed to his fingers stuck between the exam door and its frame (on the hinge side) while I was packing up some papers in my purse.
Fact: medical exam doors are very heavy and close on their own. Not a good thing when you stick your little fingers in there.
The first thing coming out of my mouth after I freed my son’s hand was:
“Damn it, again? Why???”
You’re right, I didn’t say, “are you OK?” I felt I had a lot of frustration to vent. Why, you ask? Because the little guy gets his fingers stuck in doors all the time. And I mean, all the time. And he doesn’t seem to be learning his lesson, even when it hurts. Should I remind you he’s three and a half?
But this time, his middle finger had a HUGE dent on the top (it looked like the dent went all the way down to the bone) and a big cruise on the bottom on his finger. I mean, it looked awful. The good news is, we were in the doctor’s office when this happened! So a nurse gave me an ice pack right away and went to get our pediatrician. She quickly glanced at the finger, thought it wasn’t broken but ordered an X-ray just to be sure.
So off we went, down the elevator to the first floor and on to radiology. We waited there a while and by then our stomachs were growling and begging us for lunch. My son got his first body part X-rayed (besides the usual dental X-rays). Three images later, we got to look at his hand X-ray on the computer screen. You know me, I wouldn’t miss a teaching opportunity about radiology when I see one. Actually, my son is the one who requested to see “pictures of his skeleton.”
The radiologist said everything looked fine but we still went back upstairs to see our pediatrician as she’d requested, and she gave us clearance to leave. By then, the ice pack had worked miracles and the dent was almost completely gone. All that was left was the bruise on the bruising of the finger. It was gone the next day.
As we were leaving the parking lot, I told my son I’d have to tell his dad about the incident. His response?
“No, I don’t want him to know.” (Sorry buddy, too late)
Then I said we’d have to tell his brother. And to that he replied:
“Don’t tell him or he’ll be furious.”
That’s when I realized the little guy was embarrassed of his painful mistake. But in a way, I really hope he learned this time, unfornately the hard way. Ah, the joys of motherhood…
Moral of the story: Always have an ice pack ready to go! It can work wonders on bumps, bruises and, as tested by yours truly, finger dents.
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Perfecting Motherhood 