All Stitched Up

I'm not a morning person; I don't function normally until close to 10am every day. So after I get everybody out of bed, dressed and fed, I like to take in my morning coffee in quiet to adjust to the idea of being awake. And so the boys watch a TV show or two along with some apple slices. It's our morning routine and I love it! TV time equals calm, quiet down-time... right? Wrong.

Nate likes to swing by his arms between the two couches in our living room while he watches TV (I guess sitting on the couch is just too darn relaxing). I always caution him to be careful when he does this, but it doesn't ever look too dangerous. His feet are just a couple inches off the ground and his swinging motion is small, and I'm pretty sure I did the same kind of thing when I was younger for fun and never got hurt. But this time his arms must've slipped off the couch arms mid-swing, because his forehead hit the corner of the coffee table, and he was down on the floor crying out in pain. The gash was so deep, I could see where his flesh met his skull. I knew right away he'd need stitches and ran around the house grabbing a cloth to put pressure on the gash, snacks for all of us should we get sent to the ER, and the diaper bag since it was a weekday and I was on my own with both boys. We went to the closest walk-in clinic where the nurse paid great attention to us and bumped us up to the front of the list in a full waiting room. Thankfully the bleeding stopped by the time we got there, and while Nate was definitely in pain and seemed anxious about what would happen next in that dreaded doctor's office, he was playing a little with Cody and being his silly little self. The doctor had to give an injection into the wound to freeze it, and then proceeded to put in three stitches. I had been fine up until the needle was placed into Nate's face... But then the room started to spin and I felt very shaky and about to faint. I felt awful about abandoning Nate right in the middle of getting his very first stitches ever but I knew if I didn't sit down and eat the energy bar I had brought along, I'd be passed out on the floor completely useless. So three times during Nate's stitches I had to sit down and take a few moments to gather myself. Nate screamed through every stitch - and the nurse popped her head in every time to make sure we were okay - but not once did he squirm away or try to avoid getting the stitches. He was incredibly brave, braver than his mama. So I made sure to make up for this horrible experience for the rest of the day, with a slurpee stop, lunch in front of the TV, and building a tent in his room to play in. I hope he learned his lesson - never ever let your feet leave the ground ever again.