Parenting link of the day, mostly for my own reference:
Ignore your child, but do it lovinglyIt has come to my attention that I mostly only talk about the good stuff. I admit it is a bit of a habit; I find fun more interesting to share than pain. But I don't mean to give an inaccurate picture of what all of this is like. For all that N is cute and
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enough to even think about calling the doctor(ie, not enough to provoke more than a minor fuss), and already worry about whether other people just have it much more together than me at the parenting thing.
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Around the third or fourth time my mom took her little toddler in to the emergency room for stitches to the head, she started taking character witnesses in with her. Because yes, he really was just running into the wall and splitting his head open badly enough to need stitches... every month or so. No matter what his file looked like.
It's an old enough story that the edges have worn off and it's funny now. But if someone had made a crack like that at her in the waiting room, it would have been devastating.
(On the upside, they eventually put him, as a three year old, into these giant glasses that make for absolutely adorable photos. And that solved the running into walls problem.)
I'm glad N is ok, and that you are as well!
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This sounds like the time I thought I'd broken Maya's arm. She came racing across the room to give me a hug, and banged one hand into my hip instead of reaching around it. Her arm went SNAP! and she started screaming, but the doc said it was just a strain on her wrist - equivalent to "nursemaid's elbow". Everything was fine about two hours later.
I think human brains have evolved to take care of little kids even under severe sleep deprivation. I know that I was able to do all the absolute ground-level stuff required to care for Maya when she was about 18 months old.
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Thanks! While sitting in the ER, I basically figured that out -- the terror of the whole thing is probably going to happen several times. It's just like that. Scary things will happen, and you just have to deal with them.
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When she was a toddler, we called my sister "Too-tall hard-head" for her tendency to attempt to walk *under* tables she instead banged right into, repeatedly and nearly without noticing. And I once figured out how to open the baby gate and fell down a flight of stairs to the basement. And though some will say that explains a lot about me, I just vote "kids are tough."
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Kids are very tough, it's true.
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