First of Many I Presume

Well hello! Did you forget about me?

The girl that only posts every great once in awhile and it's always about her kid or a baby shower she recently hosted. Hah.

I'm not in a hole or hiding, or even boycotting the ol' blog. I'm just busy.

Busy chasing a crazy toddler.
Busy at the place I spend more time than home.
Busy hosting yet another shower (I'm a pro at these I tell ya)
Busy watching the entire Friday Night Lights series and drooling over Tim Riggins.
And busy getting our very first ER trip outta the way.

Yep, my rambunctious all-boy of a child experienced his first trip to the emergency room.

I felt exactly like you would expect a first-time mother to feel when her child gets seriously hurt. Fear. Heartache. Sadness. Guilt.

My Friday afternoon quickly changed when I received a message from Carson's school telling me that he had taken a bad spill, cut his head, and that the paramedics were there. 

I won't ever forgot that day. Or the messages of them trying to reach me. The fear that went through my mind. The long drive from downtown to get to my hurt baby.

It was absolutely horrible.

We arrived at his school where they had stopped the bleeding. The paramedics were still there. He had stumbled while walking in from the playground and fell into a fence, where a bolt on the fence cut his head.

I'm so thankful they changed his shirt before we got there. Apparently, the head bleeds a lot. His shirt was scary. So thankful I didn't have to see him wearing that. I was already a mess.

We took him to the ER ourselves where he got three staples in his head. Staples!

His teachers were shocked how small the cut was considering how much his head was bleeding. Although this was several days after cleaning and healing.

He did great given that he had to be held down for the doctor to clean it and staple it. Our little trooper. We were proud.

He showed no signs of a concussion, but we had to wake him up every two hours that night just to make sure. Boy, were we excited about that.

By the time we were discharged, he was trying to climb the medical equipment and wanted to push anything with wheels. Chairs, medical carts, fluid bag rollers. You can take a guess how the waking up every two hours went.

But after a few days, our boy was back to normal.

Making my house a mess. Cutting new teeth. Taking more spills. The bookcase jumped right into his forehead and caused a line bruise.

AND, that couch ran after him at Landon's birthday party last Saturday and broke open the scab. He just so happened to fall right on his wound, creating a goose egg under the staples.

Raising a boy is an adventure I tell ya. 

What staples ma?

The staples were removed this week (10 days after). Only a minute of crying.

I'm absolutely positive this trip won't be the last. I wish it was, but I'm realistic. I'm raising a rough-housing, adventurous boy who likes to push the limits.

Of course he is fine, but I can say with confidence that the feeling you get when you know your baby is hurt, well...it's unforgettable. Gut wrenching, scary and awful.

Now Carson, please stop falling and hitting your head. I've had enough adventures with you to give me at least a couple months grace period.

Mama needs a break.