Mini-me cut herself
First of all, BLAH!!!!
Having said that... My back hurts. I did SOOOO much laundry today. I've had it. I'm moving to a nudist colony and I'm never coming back! Fuck it!
Friday night (was it Friday?) Mini-Me cut her finger. Ok, not a life threatening wound, I understand that. But she cut an angle across the veins that run over the back of the knuckle, and it was bleeding a LOT.
Things I did wrong:
1. I was (in her mind) unapproachable, which is why she was handling the knife herself instead of asking me for help
2. I panicked. Big time.
Things I did right:
1. When she expressed fear that she was in trouble, I accepted responsibility for the situation and reassured her. She shouldn't have felt like she needed to use the knife herself in the first place. She should have felt free coming to me.
2. I apologized... a lot.
3. I cleaned the cut. (more panic, watching the blood flow while her hand was under the running water. And more apologies.)
4. I grabbed a towel for her to hold on the wound. Double objective: pressure to stop the bleeding, and towel to hide the cut so neither of us were freaking out any more. More apologies.
5. I calmed her down. Couldn't do anything immediately about the pain, but taking away the fear helped stop the tears. Once she was calmed down, she came up with all the very good ideas for treating it. I was still in a panic.
Things she did right:
1. She tried to deal with it herself. I'm proud of her. Naturally, I'd rather she feel better about coming to me right away, but she didn't fall to pieces. Let me stress, it was a NASTY gash. She really held it together.
2. When she realized she needed help, even though she thought I'd be angry and she'd be in big trouble, she sucked it up and came to me for the help she needed. My girl has courage.
3. Getting a band-aid on it was her idea. I was too freaked by all the blood and all my guilt to think clearly. Once she asked for a band-aid, my brain kicked in a little bit... need bandage, first stop bleeding, GRAB TOWEL. Check.
4. She elevated the wound. How many first aid and emergency readiness classes have I had? DUH. About one or two a year from 1987 - 1999. Why didn't I think of that??? She sat down on the couch and held the towel on her hand with both arms over her head.
She probably could have used a stitch or two, but my stupid ass PCP's office never called me back to approve the trip to the ER. Still, I think it will heal fine. So she's independant, brave, intelligent, and (relatively) calm in a crisis.
Mini-me is so great! I don't know what I did to deserve this child, but it had to be something incredibly good. She's amazing. Granted, in a few years she'll be hitting her teens. She'll be sneaking out, smoking crack, having unprotected sex with multiple anonymous partners (probably in exchange for the aforementioned crack), and will finally figure out that I haven't the first fucking clue what I'm doing as a parent - and hate me for it. Ah, but until then she's a good friend to me. I don't show it nearly often or well enough, but she's my best friend. There is very little I can't/don't tell her. And, until recently, there wasn't much she wouldn't tell me. It's a cold slap in the face that she didn't feel right asking me for help with that knife... this is a girl who at 6 years old said "Mom, I think we need to divorce 'Ernie'." and at 8 years old said, "Mom, I think I may be pregnant." Now, approaching her 10th birthday, she didn't say "Mom, I need help cutting this thing open."
*sigh* I need to be saving up for her therapy. She'll need it. Lots and lots of therapy.
Having said that... My back hurts. I did SOOOO much laundry today. I've had it. I'm moving to a nudist colony and I'm never coming back! Fuck it!
Friday night (was it Friday?) Mini-Me cut her finger. Ok, not a life threatening wound, I understand that. But she cut an angle across the veins that run over the back of the knuckle, and it was bleeding a LOT.
Things I did wrong:
1. I was (in her mind) unapproachable, which is why she was handling the knife herself instead of asking me for help
2. I panicked. Big time.
Things I did right:
1. When she expressed fear that she was in trouble, I accepted responsibility for the situation and reassured her. She shouldn't have felt like she needed to use the knife herself in the first place. She should have felt free coming to me.
2. I apologized... a lot.
3. I cleaned the cut. (more panic, watching the blood flow while her hand was under the running water. And more apologies.)
4. I grabbed a towel for her to hold on the wound. Double objective: pressure to stop the bleeding, and towel to hide the cut so neither of us were freaking out any more. More apologies.
5. I calmed her down. Couldn't do anything immediately about the pain, but taking away the fear helped stop the tears. Once she was calmed down, she came up with all the very good ideas for treating it. I was still in a panic.
Things she did right:
1. She tried to deal with it herself. I'm proud of her. Naturally, I'd rather she feel better about coming to me right away, but she didn't fall to pieces. Let me stress, it was a NASTY gash. She really held it together.
2. When she realized she needed help, even though she thought I'd be angry and she'd be in big trouble, she sucked it up and came to me for the help she needed. My girl has courage.
3. Getting a band-aid on it was her idea. I was too freaked by all the blood and all my guilt to think clearly. Once she asked for a band-aid, my brain kicked in a little bit... need bandage, first stop bleeding, GRAB TOWEL. Check.
4. She elevated the wound. How many first aid and emergency readiness classes have I had? DUH. About one or two a year from 1987 - 1999. Why didn't I think of that??? She sat down on the couch and held the towel on her hand with both arms over her head.
She probably could have used a stitch or two, but my stupid ass PCP's office never called me back to approve the trip to the ER. Still, I think it will heal fine. So she's independant, brave, intelligent, and (relatively) calm in a crisis.
Mini-me is so great! I don't know what I did to deserve this child, but it had to be something incredibly good. She's amazing. Granted, in a few years she'll be hitting her teens. She'll be sneaking out, smoking crack, having unprotected sex with multiple anonymous partners (probably in exchange for the aforementioned crack), and will finally figure out that I haven't the first fucking clue what I'm doing as a parent - and hate me for it. Ah, but until then she's a good friend to me. I don't show it nearly often or well enough, but she's my best friend. There is very little I can't/don't tell her. And, until recently, there wasn't much she wouldn't tell me. It's a cold slap in the face that she didn't feel right asking me for help with that knife... this is a girl who at 6 years old said "Mom, I think we need to divorce 'Ernie'." and at 8 years old said, "Mom, I think I may be pregnant." Now, approaching her 10th birthday, she didn't say "Mom, I need help cutting this thing open."
*sigh* I need to be saving up for her therapy. She'll need it. Lots and lots of therapy.