Lil' Trip and Fall
The cold isn't letting up much. Drugs. Drugs are good. Drugs can be your friend. Anything to keep life moving and lift the heaviness in my head. Advil cold & sinus every 4hrs - the pain in my throat woke me up at 5am. Despite my bout with illness, life has been anything but dull. I've experienced dull, then dull took a long walk on a short pier ... a ... very ... short ... pier. Short. Short like Lord Farquod short. Heck, no dull life here. I've been on the edge of my seat for most of it recently. ... For example ... The call to poison control the other night. Or maybe I'll reflect back to the instant replays of watching Omar falling, smacking, banging and yes, the poisoning threat. AND, and there was the nearly naked roll in the snow last night. I've got pictures! I'm not posting them!
If I could actually think clearly enough to articulate some of it, I'd be waaaay ahead of the game. The bright side of being sick is I've caught up on my reading. John Grisham's 'The Client' had been shelved for far too long and now, well it's been opening wide for me lately.
You know, I can only suspect that he's growing again. Omar I mean. It seems that he gets clumsy with every growth spurt. Today he totally bit it. My niece, Omar and I headed out with bird seed in tow to a nearby nature trail. The little birdies are sooo cute, they land right on your hand....So yeah, the kids begin pelting me with snowballs on the last stretch of the trail, I take cover behind a tree and Omar tries to out maneuver me and does a face dive into the mud on the trail. After the bo-bo's are checked, the tears are wiped I took a good look at the kid ~ wadda MESS! Mud from ear to tail. Poor lil gaffer.
If it's not that, it's toe stubbing & head whacking. Did I mention having to call poison control? Yeah! On the evening ride home from the country, Omar's in his car seat in the back hooked up to his Massively Mini Media Player when suddenly from he breaks the silence grievously asking "Mawm.......Is the stuff inside that plastic thing poison?" Jeeeeez. Santa's elves apparently supply MEC, because the old fat guy dropped one of these in his stocking. The backing must have busted off while we were sledding and Omar was pretending it was a mouth thermometer and was sucking on it or bit on it or something and swallowed some of the red stuff. A story I was only able to draw out of him through bawling tears on the side of the highway through the backseat window in the black of night while I search through the snow with a flashlight (see, he flung the offending object out the window) while he's swishing and spitting copious amounts of water out the window narrowly missing me and CRYING. Sigh. BIG sigh.
Despite the fact that I called Grandpa and told Omar that I've confirmed it's probably only alcohol inside, he was determined to question me for the next 25 minutes about what we'll do if it is poison, would he die, could he die, "mom I'm scared"...and so on and so forth. I'm not sure that the soothing confident comfort tone I adopted or my request "I really need you to calm down Omar, OK, everything's gonna be alright, mom's gonna take care of you....Honey, did you swallow it or was it just in your mouth?" "I THINK I SWALLOWED SOOOOOOMMMMMEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" ...Insert more bawling. The only thing that actually calmed him down was me telling the story about the time when I was his age and splashed liquid HEAT into my eyes. I think the story might have actually made him laugh...
There's more. But I don't have the heart to write it out; besides, I have a novel calling my name. Let's all pray that he'll make it to eight with no broken bones...Or stomach pumping.
If I could actually think clearly enough to articulate some of it, I'd be waaaay ahead of the game. The bright side of being sick is I've caught up on my reading. John Grisham's 'The Client' had been shelved for far too long and now, well it's been opening wide for me lately.
You know, I can only suspect that he's growing again. Omar I mean. It seems that he gets clumsy with every growth spurt. Today he totally bit it. My niece, Omar and I headed out with bird seed in tow to a nearby nature trail. The little birdies are sooo cute, they land right on your hand....So yeah, the kids begin pelting me with snowballs on the last stretch of the trail, I take cover behind a tree and Omar tries to out maneuver me and does a face dive into the mud on the trail. After the bo-bo's are checked, the tears are wiped I took a good look at the kid ~ wadda MESS! Mud from ear to tail. Poor lil gaffer.
If it's not that, it's toe stubbing & head whacking. Did I mention having to call poison control? Yeah! On the evening ride home from the country, Omar's in his car seat in the back hooked up to his Massively Mini Media Player when suddenly from he breaks the silence grievously asking "Mawm.......Is the stuff inside that plastic thing poison?" Jeeeeez. Santa's elves apparently supply MEC, because the old fat guy dropped one of these in his stocking. The backing must have busted off while we were sledding and Omar was pretending it was a mouth thermometer and was sucking on it or bit on it or something and swallowed some of the red stuff. A story I was only able to draw out of him through bawling tears on the side of the highway through the backseat window in the black of night while I search through the snow with a flashlight (see, he flung the offending object out the window) while he's swishing and spitting copious amounts of water out the window narrowly missing me and CRYING. Sigh. BIG sigh.
Despite the fact that I called Grandpa and told Omar that I've confirmed it's probably only alcohol inside, he was determined to question me for the next 25 minutes about what we'll do if it is poison, would he die, could he die, "mom I'm scared"...and so on and so forth. I'm not sure that the soothing confident comfort tone I adopted or my request "I really need you to calm down Omar, OK, everything's gonna be alright, mom's gonna take care of you....Honey, did you swallow it or was it just in your mouth?" "I THINK I SWALLOWED SOOOOOOMMMMMEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" ...Insert more bawling. The only thing that actually calmed him down was me telling the story about the time when I was his age and splashed liquid HEAT into my eyes. I think the story might have actually made him laugh...
There's more. But I don't have the heart to write it out; besides, I have a novel calling my name. Let's all pray that he'll make it to eight with no broken bones...Or stomach pumping.
Labels: bumps and bruises, crying, dullness, good drugs, poison, reading, the anti-dull
posted by nancycle at
7:19 p.m.
5 Comments:
oh sister. I feel your pain. Havent had to call poison control (knock wood) but know the joys of completely beaten little boys. Did I mention the turnips black eye right before xmas? made for lovely photos...just stay safe buddy....
To catch up on all my backlogged books, I'd need a sick month... or two.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Maybe he needs a bubble...or to be wrapped in toilet paper? ;-)
crse - I'm afraid he's inherited this from me. How did those pics turn out? Yeesh ~ sorry!
kapgar - Oh, you're not alone! I'm so frickin happy just to find one that intrigues me enough not to put it down.
sandra - that's hilarious, that's EXACTLY the conversation we had on the way home!!! Everything I threw at him he had an answer for.
Me: What if we wrapped you in bubble wrap?
Omar: *miserable in the back seat* Then the bubble would just pop and sticks would poke through.
Me: What if it was 20 layers of bubble wrap?
Omar: The same think would happen.
Me: OK, what if you had a force field around you?
Omar: *taking longer to answer* Then it would just lose power as I was falling and wouldn't do anything I'd still have this stupid pain on my knee....
Me: OK, what if...
You get the picture. :-)
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