Sunday, December 8, 2013

Quick Trip to Children's Hospital

So, yesterday Little Bear jumped off the top of the slide at school, landed funny, and split his chin open. 5 stitches later, he was good to go. This is not the first time this sort of thing has happened, and I'm certain that it will not be the last. I know that my older brother, The Boy's namesake, was the one in the family that was constantly injuring himself doing something stupid, and it looks like Little Bear inherited that part of the Musical genetic code. Sigh.

His teacher was agonized over it. "I should have stopped him!" Yeah, right. As if she had a chance to do that. By the time she would have gotten over there, spoken to him, and had him pause long enough to listen, he would have been in mid-air. It happened just as quickly when I was watching him a couple of years ago, the last time he seriously split his chin open. Granted, this doesn't let her off the hook - next time I see her, I have every intention of opening the conversation with, "So, why are you throwing my kid off of the playground equipment?" I will gleefully bust her chops for a couple years or so.

He was a very good patient - stayed still while they applied the numbing cream ("Daddy, they made my chin go to sleep!"), stayed still while they stitched him up, and did not freak out while they waited. It really helped that The Wife (who took him to Children's Hospital) was not panicking or freaking out - Lord knows that we've been through much, much worse. A cut-up chin and some blood is not going to freak us out.


When I got home, I cuddled him up and asked him about it, and he told me a nice story about the incident and the hospital. I laughed with him a little bit, saying, "If I were you, I wouldn't do that again." He doesn't seem to be affected by it, as he tried repeatedly last night to leap off of the couch. The couch is a little better than the slide, but it isn't ideal with stitches in your chin. He'll be taking standing-up baths, without his brothers, for the next couple of weeks. That's not the worst thing in the world.

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The Boy has been waking up earlier and earlier in the morning, to come downstairs and "exercise" with me. He'll sometimes "lift weights" - mimic what I'm doing, with an empty 5-pound dumbbell bar, or something like that, but mostly he wants to watch television with me. It's fun, because he does ask about the exercises and what they do and how they make me stronger. Most of the time, we'll watch Phineas and Ferb, but I've been able to convince him to try other things as well. The 1973 Disney Robin Hood - the one with Robin Hood as the fox and Little John as the bear - has been a big hit recently. That movie was one of my favorites growing up, and I must have watched it 150 times; I'm glad that he's enjoying it as well. It's a little frustrating sometimes, because I want to watch Breaking Bad (and it's not quite appropriate for him), but that's life sometimes.

He's been very calendar-centric lately, as well. "Daddy, we've got 28 more days until the new year!" "Daddy, we've got three more days until Hannukah is over!" "Daddy, there's 22 more days until Christmas!" The school week is a 6-day cycle - so, Monday is day 1, Tuesday is day 2, etc., and the following Monday is day 6, then Tuesday is day 1, etc. This lets them have a reasonable division of extra activities : they have gym days 1, 3, and 5, and art and music the other 3 days. (I know, I know - kids in Kindergarten should have gym and music/art every single day, but that's besides the point. Education in America is entirely broken, and I'm not getting started on that today.) He's been writing "The Morning News" at school every day, which he does on the weekends: sometimes on paper, sometimes on an iPad. He might have a guest post soon.


He lost one of his top front teeth a couple of days ago. The tooth faity dipped into the large well of action figures donated by Uncle B to give him a Mongul action figure - I try to alternate good guys with bad guys, to keep it balanced. Good guys aren't as much fun if they have noone to fight. Best part of that: the tooth fairy forgot the first night, and forgot the second night - fortunately, The Boy was downstairs eating breakfast (rest of the family was asleep) when the tooth fairy visited. Whew. I think he knows the true identity of the tooth fairy at this point, but I'm not saying anything.


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