Commando

I've been peed on before, but never twice in one day, by two different children.

Tuesday, I babysat a friend's two daughters (one almost 3 yrs and the other 3 months). They were a joy and I loved it. The older daughter is potty trained and told me that she needed to go, so into the bathroom we went. Perhaps because she didn't like our big potty she ran back out of the bathroom, so I brought her back in and encouraged her to take care of business. We almost had her unbuttoned when she just couldn't hold it anymore. As I rushed to put her on the seat so that the rest would go in the bowl, a little got on me. No big deal. It has happened before. With one toddler needing to be cleaned up and another wondering what was going on and wanting a bath anyway, in they both went, with the baby sitting safely off to the side watching.

Fast forward a couple hours. The toddlers are clean, dressed and playing in the nursery when I walk in to discover a wet diaper sitting on the floor. Where in the world did this come from? I thought. The best answer was my neglect to throw it in the diaper pail after the bath. Ewww. I know better than that. At least they weren't playing with it.

Fast forward another 6 hours. After lunch, naps, and the 2 cute girls back with their own family, it was just my toddler and me again. As we sat together getting his shoes on I experienced a very warm sensation on my leg. He just peed on me. His diaper must have overflowed (since I hadn't changed him since after his bath). How neglectful of me. Serves me right, I thought. Funny surprise when I got him on his changing table and he had NO DIAPER under his overalls. I laughed long and hard and he laughed right along with me. Who would've thought he could reach under his overalls and pull his diaper off. Who would've thought he would go 6 hours without relieving himself. My little boy going commando.

Next time I see a wet diaper laying around there will be a thorough investigation and no jumping to conclusions.

ER

Our first trip to the ER was not as bad as expected, but not as good as I had hoped. While running around before dinner one night last week, out toddler tripped and hit his face at the foot of our bed. On his right eyelid he had a short, deep cut that bled quite a bit and though we were able to console him after a few minutes, decided that we needed to get him checked out and stitched up. It was a busy night in the ER. As anyone will know who has waited in the ER, you overhear bits and pieces of what happened to the other patients. Hearing about and seeing the toddler who pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove and onto his face, or seeing the man walk by with a bloody bandage on his shin, or hearing the woman outside not able to bear the news of the result of the car accident touched our hearts and we were willing to wait while those with more urgent needs were treated first.

He was a good boy in the waiting area. We made friends with another family whose toddler had hit her head, and he ran around and played in the children's area. Once we were checked in and had his vitals checked by a nurse, Ben ran back home to get us our dinner and some supplies to keep us entertained. He came back with some food and his laptop and DVDs. We had been there for about 3 hours and were discussing leaving and letting the cut heal on its own. Thankfully, the doctor called us back before we convinced ourselves to leave. We were relieved to get out of the noisy waiting area to the exam room where we were able to let the little guy fall asleep. After a while, the doctor came in to inspect the injury and recommended stitches. She had to numb the area, then have it irrigated, and then stitch it up. He was awakened from what was a peaceful sleep to painful needle pricks. The medicine worked immediately, but he was very emotional and it took a long time to calm him down. It was difficult for Ben and I because we had to pin him down using "adult strength". That boy is STRONG and didn't want all of us huddling around him, so he fought as much as he could. After calming down, the nurse came in to irrigate, which set him off again. The nurse left saying she was going to recommend to the doctor to give him some benedryl to calm his nerves. Then we sat and waited, turned off the lights again and were able to calm down the poor guy enough that he fell asleep. After about another hour, the doctor came in to do the stitches. Three of us held him still while the doctor put in 3 stitches. He tried his best to fight, but was so exhausted that after the 2nd stitch he just gave up, his spirit broke, and let us finish without the screaming and kicking. Seeing him like that was so sad. We would give anything to have taken his place.

All stitched up, we came home and he went to sleep without a wimper. He slept long the next morning and other than a little swelling, showed no signs of being effected by the night before.

The facial plastic surgeon checked his stitches on Thursday and removed them on Monday. Other than a little yelling at the surgeon, the stitches removal was painless. We can now barely see the injury that created this whole mess, but we will certainly never forget it.