Blood, Bandages, and Book Club

Yesterday I was getting ready to host M-girl's book club, and frantically cleaning the house calmly putting the finishing touches on my preparations. K-boy came into the kitchen as I was wiping down the cabinets (how do they get so dirty?).

K-boy calmly said, Mom?

I replied, What is it? I'm too busy for interruptions!

K-boy answered, It's just that I cut myself on a piece of glass and the blood is kind of getting everywhere.

My head spun around. K-boy was standing there, holding a cloth to his bloody thumb. Sure enough, there was a trail of blood drops leading down the hallway...not a lot, but way too much for squeamish me.

I tried to collect my thoughts and avoid fainting. Ugh! Go in the bathroom, K-boy, and put pressure on it. I'll find the bandages! I told him.

He protested that he just needed an ordinary band aid. I peeked through my fingers at his cut and determined that it would be prudent to break out the gauze and tape. Somehow, I managed to get it wrapped up, despite feeling light-headed.

Then it was time to clean up the blood. K-boy stood by, pointing out drops and cheerfully exclaiming, I'm just a bleeder. It looks worse than it is!

I was praying that the bleeding would stop and that he wouldn't end up needing stitches. Emergency Rooms are not my favorite places.

Finally, the bleeding did stop. I re-cleaned the house for book club, and the rest of the day was casualty free. Whew! Just writing about it made me whoozy again.

After all of that, K-boy won't even let me take a picture of his thumb for the blog. He'd better hope BadDad is home the next time he needs taping up. I sure do!

Brothers in Uniform

My two sons (13 and 6) share a bedroom. D-boy idolizes his big brother and they get along well together. Sometimes I'm privy to the funniest conversations though. The other night K-boy was tormenting me by announcing when he'd be old enough to fly a glider at Civil Air Patrol. He knows that I'm the sort of mom that only truly relaxes when I know that all of my children are safe.

Not satisfied with teasing me, he turned to his brother.

Ha! You've got to wait six years before you can even join Civil Air Patrol!

D-boy was unfazed. He calmly replied, Maybe I won't even join Silver Air Patrol....maybe I'll join Gold Air Patrol!

I left K-boy to explain. I was too busy trying not to laugh.

Smile

I hope that at least one of my children grows up to be a dentist. Then BadDad and I can retire and live in the guest house. On his estate.

I cringe when it's time for one of us to go for our dental checkup. It's never good news, even when they say it is. This past week has been typical of our experience at the dentist.

The other night at dinner, K-boy complained of tooth pain and actually asked me to call the dentist. That sounded serious. I managed to get him an appointment for the following morning. At first it did actually seem like good news, the pain was caused by a baby tooth that hasn't fallen out even though the adult tooth is ready to come in. K-boy has two weeks to wiggle the heck out of the thing and get it out himself, otherwise the dentist will pull it for him. Whew!

Then the dentist found a cavity. $$$$

Yesterday I had my six month cleaning. The hygienist kept praising my tooth brushing habits and saying how healthy my mouth was. Before I could puff up with too much pride she took a couple of x rays for teeth that might need crowns. I was in a cold sweat by the time the dentist came in to take a look.

The good news...I don't need crowns. The bad news...I need old fillings removed and replaced with new ones. $$$$

Today both M-girl and D-boy had cleanings. No cavities, but..... M-girl needs to see an orthodontist. $$$$$$$$$$. D-boy needs a special process done before he can get sealants on his molars. $$$$

No wonder they're all so smiley when they see us coming. With any luck we'll at least get an invitation to the beach house. You know, the one we're helping to pay the mortgage on.