Ouch! Don't Worry, a Band-Aid Will Fix It!

Chris falls. We take pictures then help. Stellar parenting.

           I made a new friend the other day who told me that all within a span of a few weeks her 3-year-old son swallowed a quarter and required surgery, then broke his arm and needed cast. All I could think was how grateful I am that I don’t have to follow around a boisterous boy all the time, wincing constantly at his daredevil antics. My brothers were like that - the type that tried to see if they could fly by jumping off the garage roof.

Bruises by Mommy.

            While Chris is pretty brave and would be happy riding the tallest, fastest roller coaster at the amusement park, she is definitely more girly when it comes to possible pain-inducing playtime. We’ve been very lucky that she’s never been seriously hurt, and the one time she did have to go to the emergency room it was totally my fault. See, I made the major rookie parenting mistake of setting the kid on the counter and letting go for a split second to throw away a diaper, resulting in a sickening thump on the tile floor and a mad dash to the hospital to examine what fortunately turned out to be a bruised cheek.

            Believe me when I say, though, that it’s really been sheer luck that we haven’t made more friends in the ER. Chris inherited my grace and had the misfortune of losing her front teeth pretty early compared to the other kids. Turns out she was tripping constantly and kissed the ground quite often. Her father actually had to give her “falling lessons” to teach her how to break the fall with her hands instead of her face.

            Until she picked up that little tidbit, Chris’ instability led to the first of many dental visits to examine dying teeth. One the dentist decided to pull when she was three years old, while commenting over and over that it was against his better judgment because she would probably just do the same thing again (she did soon fall and kill the other front tooth, but that’s another story). Frankly, I was thrilled for Chris to lose that tooth because it was so gray that I was afraid people would think we didn’t have the slightest regard for dental hygiene. Sue me, I sometimes care that people might think we’re white trash because we’re loud and use coupons. No need to add more fuel to that fire.

            In the end, the dentist said Chris was the best 3-year-old patient he’d ever had. No, I don’t think they say that to ALL the parents. But everyone did agree it was the just about the cutest thing in the world when the dentist numbed Chris’ tooth before pulling and she told him her mouth felt dizzy.

            I hope I’m not jinxing us by revealing this, but the lack of broken bones or other major medical issues is not from lack of trying. Not long after Chris had the training wheels taken off her bike she did a total Wayne’s World reenactment. Remember the part where the crazy chick is stalking Wayne while he and Garth are playing street hockey? And while staring at him longingly and saying, “Hi Wayne!” she rides ride into a parked car?

That could have been Chris, only there was no high school crush involved yet, and it was group of trash cans waiting for pickup that jumped in front of her moving bike. A group of teenage boys did give me  the slightest hope for future generations by asking if Chris was OK before they burst into a fit of giggles.

THIS one is not Mommy's fault. She's just allergic.

Like most kids, I’m sure Chris does exaggerate her boo boos some times just to get attention. The kid honestly believes a Band-Aid will cure just about anything and has even suggested I apply one to my head when I complain of a headache. I’m not sure why that headache keeps happening when she’s around, I say sarcastically.

Once she fell down and instead of saying “ouch” like a normal child, she told me she hurt her ulna. That was the result of a party game we had played where we tried to name parts of the body that contain four letters and out of the blue Chris blurted out “ULNA!” The room went dead quiet as we all stared at the kid in amazement. So for a long time, she tried to recreate the excitement by dropping the ulna bomb whenever anything was hurt. Until it just wasn’t funny anymore.

            I do have to say I believe it was my divine inspiration in signing Chris up for ballet lessons that has led her to stop falling down quite as often. Slowing down to concentrate on dance moves in time with music has given her, thank God, just a little bit more grace.

This may or may not help. But she looks pretty nonetheless.

            But we’re not out of the woods yet. I’m sure we will have our share of frantic doctor visits over the years. However, I believe those times will be from lack of coordination rather than Chris pushing the limits like a reckless boy-child.

            If and when those days ever come, I can bet that Chris will be the talk of the hospital because she certainly gets her point across no matter what the situation. The other day riding her scooter in the park she fell down and no fewer than three adults rushed over to ask if she was OK. While dusting sand off her knees she said to everyone in general and me in particular, “Does it look like I’m OK?”

            A woman watching her grandson play chucked and told me, “I just love her personality.”

            “Hmmm, yes, it’s a strong one,” I agreed. “Obviously she didn’t fall on her mouth again.”