Rachel S. Heslin
Thoughts, insights, and mindless blather


Wuss
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Most of the time, I'm a pretty pragmatic mom. I figure kids learn through bumps and bruises, and that's just the way it is. I wasn't even too bothered the couple of times Hunter did full-on face plants on pavement while learning how to walk outside in shoes.

This evening, Hunter managed to gash himself on a hinge of our large (+/- 4ft), wooden photo screen. I was in the kitchen and heard the bang and yelp -- I think he tripped and fell into it. I thought he'd hurt his hand and, when I didn't see any wounds, assumed it was just a bump, so I kissed it and left it at that.

Getting ready for bed, as I was changing his diaper, I noticed that the underside of his arm had two good-sized gashes (one was about a quarter inch, the other about three-quarters of an inch) and three-quarters of his forearm was puffy and discolored. Externally, I reacted by verbally sympathizing that that must really hurt, and I slathered the wounds with Neosporin and gave more kisses around the area.

Internally, I surprised myself by totally freaking out. Hunter was hurt. It was very traumatic.

I'm doing a bit better now. But my poor little boy!
:(


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