“Sching”

On Tuesday afternoon after school, I was getting ready to exercise when I heard a panicked cry coming from the basement. Tommy yelled up the stairs that Charlie had something in his nose. A Lego stud named “Sching”. 

Truthfully, my first thought was, “WHY did we name a Lego stud?!”

Second thought was, “Dear Jesus, please let him blow it out.”

Tommy brought a bloody nosed Charlie up the stairs and I quickly assessed the situation. 

 

Bloody nose.

Bloody finger. 

Crap. 

He had already tried to get it out himself...and shoved it in further. 

Ok ok ok. 

Matt was home in a meeting in the library, which I vociferously calmly and quietly interrupted, without a whisper of panic. 

HA!

Matt held up his cellphone light to Charlie’s nasal cavity while I dug around in the first aid kit to find tweezers and the bulb syringe. Unfortunately, this situation was too much for me. 

^ME



I called urgent care in a tizzy, my brain going to all sorts of situations involving hospitals and driving long distances while trying to keep toddler fingers out of a tiny nose. No one answered the phone. Keeping completely and eerily maniacal  stable, I dialed our family practice next and braced for the news that I’d have to drive Charles to the closest pediatric hospital ~1 hour away. 

I quickly explained the situation to the receptionist and she immediately agreed to allow us in the office, which is unheard of right now. 

Tommy helped me put Charlie in the car, reminding him to breathe through his mouth and holding his hands so he didn’t cause any further damage. He talked to Charles and made him happy the whole trip. Everything went smoothly, from the moment we left the house. I felt an influx of grace. 

I don't want to brag or anything, but I didn't even faint when the doctor stuck that speculum up his nose to dislodge "Sching" from his resting place. 
The whole procedure was done in three minutes and Charlie was as happy as a clam. 
When the doc asked him how the lego piece got in his nose, Charlie looked her right in the eye and told her

“Danny shoved it up there.”
😶

(which he didn’t)

I told Charlie that God knew what happened and who actually put the stud up his nose. 
His reply: “Yeah, and Tommy knows the truth because he saw me put it up my nose.”




I spent that night raiding the kids Halloween candy and drinking the last of the cooking wine. 

Sarah’s Stories

 

Charlie: " Do you need help?"

Me: " Sure." 

Charlie: *leaves room and shuts door behind him*

Blast from the Past - The Journal Before the Blog

 

 

Throwback- June 2013

 Bean's Happy Place

So Very Brave

Happy and Happier

Loving Legos

Hammiest of the Hambones

Usual Lunch of Plastics

Throwback- August 8, 2015

Tom: I'm making a grasshopper trap. Do you think they need to breathe? I'm gonna put grass in here...

Nate: I'm gonna catch ants with this sugar trap. They don't need to breathe. 

Tom: Grasshoppers might need to breathe, because my beetle friends I caught yesteryear were in a trap with a lid with none holes. And when I looked at them later, they were so very dead. 

Nate: Let's find scissors!

#sitdownson #thatsmytupperware
 

Dental Work

 This past month was filled with dental appointments, follow ups, orthodontic evaluations, braces placement and one dental surgery. Considering 90% of our family is able to sit in a dentist’s chair and have our teeth cleaned, this was not a small number of visits. The other 10% still rejoices when I turn on the Tooth Brushing Song, then proceeds to grab the wrong toothbrush, run away with the wrong toothpaste, scream like a Nazgul when we catch her and bite anything that comes within 6 inches of her tiny mouth with snapping turtle-like strength. She’s a delight, our Little Lulu. 

Charlie was a tricky babe. He nursed for a really long time. I nursed him all night, every night. I took care of his teeth, but never realized that the constant nursing could hurt his teeth the way it did. When Matt left New York to live in Michigan for the new job, things kind of fell apart. Charlie was running through the kitchen at Belleholm one day and fell face-first on the tile floor in the school room. He smashed his front four teeth. I took him to three separate dentists to figure out what needed to be done. He was still just a baby. The first dentist sent me to a pediatric dentist that immediately wanted to do surgery on his mouth. The third dentist I went to suggested that I take a breath and wait. He wondered if Charlie’s teeth would hold on four the six years it would take to lose them and gain his permanent teeth. 

I liked the most conservative option and decided to wait. When we moved to Michigan, I assumed I’d find a dentist right away. But, like most things that aren’t emergencies, it fell to the back burner. Charles started complaining of tooth pain this summer and we knew something had to be done. The dentist in Rochester, MI was kind and compassionate. She ignored my mom-guilt and scheduled surgery immediately. 

Charlie did great and had a heckuva lot to say under the influence of laughing gas and Versed. We now know that he only likes blue trees, that mom is a bad driver, that he gets really "bizzy" when under the influence, and that his shoes talk to him.

After one day of laying low and eating soft foods, he was back to his reckless self, trying to jump down the stairs and wrestle with Danny.