Friday night was supposed to be a girl's night out for some friends and I. Nothing too exciting. Just dinner and a little shopping. After being stuck in the house for 6 snow days, I was looking forward to a yummy dinner and laughter. The plan was to leave at 5:30, stop and eat at Chili's, and then shop until the stores closed. Retail therapy with friends. That would have been a great night.
But instead......it was NOT a good night. About 15 minutes before we were leaving, Charlie decided to run through the house carrying a metal Thomas the Train. As he ran down the hall, he tripped. The scream was one that every mother would immediately know that someone is HURT. Charlie's forehead slammed right into that train he was carrying. I will spare you the
horrible scary terrifying bloody messy frightening details. I quickly picked him up and began to apply pressure to his head. In the mean time, I sent Max and Annie over to my sweet friend's house. She just happens to be a nurse. She helped control the bleeding until I could compose myself enough to make a plan. Before I knew it, there were 4 wonderful neighbors helping and offering to watch my other two children while we headed to the ER.
My sweet guy ended up with 12 stitches in his head. The whole experience is one that I never want to relive. Watching your child in pain just rips your heart out of your chest, doesn't it?
Charlie is a trooper. He was "excellent" during the whole process...according to the doctor. All I know is that my pumpkin was being held down and was screaming his little head off.
Even though it was traumatic, he is back to his wild self. Every once in a while he will stop and say, "boo-boo hurt." Now if we can keep him from running/climbing/jumping. Not an easy task with a two year old.