I do know that Moops is itching for a trip to the ER. It has been almost a year since our last latenight excursion to a poorly lit hospital. Then being treated by a Dr that I am pretty sure was moonlighting as a quality control specialist, by sampling the pharmacy. Last year we also got to tour the Largest Burn Center in the United States. I remember feeling horribly guilty as a parent, when I walked my 4 year old into this impressive building. Patients from as far as West Texas were flown there for treatment. Fire Fighters were common, an arsonist on occasion. And then me, this horrible Mom who was not fast enough to catch her little man before he planted all 10 tips of his fingers onto the glass of our fireplace.
That guilt was downgraded though, shortly after our arrival, just as we situated ourselves into the waiting room and encountered at least 10 other little kids also being treated for burns. One little girl was attempting to makeover her hair, using her Mom's flat iron. Another kid pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove and onto himself. And a teenager, his Dad had to explain his wounds to me.
His explanation: "This is what happens when you sniff paint and smoke a cigarette simoutaneously".
He then pointed out that they were using his college savings to pay for his treatment, since it was pretty obvious college was not a realistic opportunity at this point in his sons' life.
I think that Dad was pissed.
This year I think Moops is interested in touring the Orthopeadic facilities in our area, as he seems to have a need to climb and then leap off of tall buildings. There is also a possible trip for head trauma, and he has discovered running without looking where he is going. Twice this week, he and a wall collided. Both times he blamed the wall... And we could also find ourselves at the chiropractor or Spine Doc, since he has also seems to have inherited my Mother's insatiable addiction of moving furniture. Multiple times this week, I have found furniture relocated, and could not recall moving the pieces myself. Like, the couch from the playroom, making its way into the kitchen.
Here is Moops attempting to climb over the side of an inflatable ship. It's at least a 6 foot drop on the other side. You can rest assured, the ENTIRE facility heard me yell at him to get down.
Perhaps this is Moops' attempt to widdle down his specialty when he goes to Medical School. At least that is how I can justify it for now. It's kind of like touring Colleges with your teenager, but far more expensive and stressful.
Speaking of injuries. Alex had a run in with a mat earlier this week. He smashed his nose in pretty good, and is now sporting a low level raccoon look. It didn't help the head cold he has been dealing with either. And for the last 2 days, he has been miserable. The bridge of his nose is slightly swollen, his sinus' are compacted, and the weather can't decide whether it wants to be warm, cold, dry, wet, happy, or sad. I got to write his teacher a note promising that he is not an abused child, just clumbsy. I always struggle with those letters, because I always feel like a neglectful parent writing them.
Dear Ms C.
Please disregard Alex's raccoon eyes. I can promise you that he has not been beaten or abused. Rather, he tripped over his own feet and face planted into the mat at Jiu Jitsu. I have witnesses if you need furher verification.
It's similar to the one I wrote for him in 3 rd Grade.
Dear Ms G.
Please allow Alex to skip PE and anything requiring the use of his Right Arm. Alex insists on playing football, and got himself sacked by a very large scary looking 7 year old. As a result, he dislocated his shoulder.
P.S. If he seems a little off and giddy today, that would be the Tylenol with Codeine he was given at the ER.
And then there was that time for Izzy, in Second Grade.
Dear Ms E.
Izzy will not have any reasonable use of her legs for the next several weeks. As she chose to remove all protective gear, before tackling the very steep hill we live on, using her bike. As a result, Izzy has successfully scraped the top layers of skin on the inside of both her legs.
None of these are as extreme as the one incident involving our neighbor's kid. They had one of those kid sized crotch rockets, and the kid lost control and found herself in a head on collision with the brick siding on their house. The poor kid literally broke her face, and then had to wear a special helmet for almost 3 months.
Fortunately, Ike is not nearly as adventurous as his older siblings. He is more of a risk assessment analyst. He watches what they do, and then doesn't repeat their actions. He is a brilliant boy!
Here he is sporting the uber safe Groucho Marx Glasses I got him while in Texas.
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