I was out doing a Personal Progress visit with our newest Beehive and her family when I glanced at my phone and saw I had 5 missed calls from Brent. Brent never calls me that much, EVER, so I excused myself to call him back. Brigitta was supposed to be napping, but she'd climbed the shelves inside Sydney's closet to get her a hat. Why was she getting Sydney a hat in the middle of nap time? I have absolutely no idea and Brigitta couldn't give us a decent explanation either. But I digress. In the process, she slipped and fell and cut a gash into her head. Doesn't look too bad though, right?
Sure it didn't look bad, but anything above the shoulders bleeds like crazy and this was why Brent called me 5 times:
By the time I arrived at home, Brent felt he was able to control the bleeding so I took over while he headed out to do his Home Teaching. After being gone for about 30 min, Brigitta complained her hair was wet and indeed, it was dripping with blood. The gash opened up again and long story short, another pair of blood-soaked pajamas went into the trash. I called Brent and we agreed to meet at the nearest Immediate Care which was closing in just 20 minutes.
The girls and I had a thrilling ride in Brent's car which the girls noted does not have a dvd player. My concerns about entitlement were pushed out of my mind once we arrived at the Immediate Care. The nurse asked how this happened and I tried to explain what we'd pieced together. Finally I told her, "With this one, I'm not surprised that I'm here. She licks the bottom of her shoes, she put beads in her ear, she just does this kind of thing. We'll probably cross paths again after tonight!"
I'd hastily dressed Brigitta in Brent's cursed Group Hug t-shirt and told the nurse if she felt the need to cut if off to save her life, I was totally ok with it. At the very least, I thought Brigitta would bleed enough on it that we'd finally be able to toss it but no, they got the bleeding under control and prepared her for staples. Here she's being swaddled to prevent her from flailing.
As a mother I've learned either you can give in to your emotions and then be forced out of the room, or you can push down those feelings, channel your British stiff upper lip and deal with it and then be available to be a comfort to your child. My ancestors would be proud to know I'm getting to be a pro at the stiff upper lip. I helped them hold down Brigitta while the doctor put 3 staples into the wound to hold it shut. Her tears eventually dried up and we stopped by Culver's for a shake and fries.
We had to keep the wound moist so Brigitta had a huge oil slick on the back of her head and of course no fancy hairdos. I'm so, so, SO grateful for my Laurel advisor who is also a nurse. She was able to take out the staples after church the following week and save us another trip to the Immediate Care.
Oh this girl!!! This pequena traviesa! What am I going to do with her??? AYE DE MI!
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