The Bloody Days of Summer

I knew boys were different than girls, but no one mentioned the blood factor.  We are not about gender stereotypes around here, because Lord knows that Amber has taken her fair share of spills but rarely do these encounters result in massive blood loss.  Mostly there are massive tears shed, which is fine since losing large amounts of tears doesn’t result in death or maniac trips to the ER. Only nominations for the Most Dramatic Child in the World award.

Today started out like any other Friday, during summertime.  I knew there was grocery shopping to be done, but had no desire to actually do the work to make it happen.  So, we all lazed around for the morning until the guilt over my computer usage got to such a level that I knew SuperNanny was waiting to break down my door and tell me to acknowledge my kids, ALREADY.  I won’t bore you with the list of things that I did in preparation to go grocery shopping, but know that my timing was off and it would make matters that much worse later.

Things went as expected while at Target and the grocery store, except maybe for the escape Sam tried to pull in the parking lot and the stupid bitch that was too busy on an all important phone call to check to see if anyone was walking behind her parked vehicle.  Funny, she seemed totally surprised when I yelled, “Get off the phone, dummy!”  Nonetheless we did our shopping and rushed home to prepare to go to Amber’s gymnastic class.  For some reason, I can’t get the hang of these classes, which results in me either completely forgetting about them or remembering at the last minute.  Thank god, for the make-up. 

As I am throwing groceries into their appropriate places, Amber is getting ready for class and Sam goes into normal coming home from absolutely boring and torturous errands with mom mode.  This entails running around while taking off his shoes and screaming at decibels only dogs can hear.  After much yelling at Sam to put his shoes back on and get to the car, we are moving.  I, of course, am trying to do too many things at once, because my brain will not allow me to let my grocery bags sit in my house when I can save time by putting them back into the car as we leave.  This means I have my hands full while trying to deal with a toddler who must have food this very instance before he dies.  No matter that he has been fully snacked while out grocery shopping and on the way home. 

Amber is ahead of us, almost in the car. Sam is moving through the garage and I am setting the alarm.  SMACK!!!!  Sam trips over his feet, the imaginary lump in the floor or the weight of the world, who knows, and starts screaming.  I quickly pick him up and shove him out of the garage, because if the alarm goes off then I will have to deal with the alarm company and police.  They tend not make things move quicker.  I turn around for some reason, don’t remember what, when I hear Amber scream as though Sam’s head just fell off of his body and rolled under the car.  Instinctively, I run to turn off the alarm and see what the hell is going on.  Sam’s face and hand is covered in blood.  I turn to Amber and tell her something about not being ONE OF THOSE females and bring Sam into the house.  I clean his face and discover that he has not broken or lost anything.  He simple has hit himself hard enough to cause the Niagara Falls of blood to come gushing out of his nose.  Have you ever tried to pinch a toddler’s bloody nose or explain how he needs to hold his head back?  Well, before you do that why don’t you try explaining to your cat how he should be more open to your feelings instead of doing whatever the damn hell he feels like. 

We return to the car and arrive at gymnastics on time, with a lot of direction from Amber on how Sam should wipe the blood running out of his nose with the napkin  Apparently, he heard throw the napkin over your head and you will be fine.  Now, if I can make it through gymnastic class without CSI dragging us out to test our clothes. 

After that hellish afternoon, I inform the hubs that I will not be cooking any dinner and to meet us out to eat.  The kids and I arrive at the restaurant first.  You would think being seated by a hostess is a boring and fairly safe situation.  Well, you haven’t met my boy, who can cause blood to flow from his body by the mere mention of a fall.  Sam goes to climb in his big boy chair and slips.  Again, a scream heard round the restaurant comes out of his mouth and so does the blood.  I have no idea how he slipped and what he hit his face on, but he succeed in giving himself a fat lip.  After all of this, we felt he was much safer strapped into a highchair.

There are many times when I go over in my head, did Amber do this?  Only to be met with a hell no.  Amber is no delicate flower and has taken many a fall, but never once has it resulted in blood gushing from her face.  This boy has been walking for 16 months and from the first fall he has produced blood.  Is it a gender thing?  Or is it simply a tool to keep me on my toes?  I had become so use to Amber falling and getting up without as much as a scratch that we tell Sam to just brush it off and you will be fine.  I highly suspect that maybe we should take him in for an ultrasound or something to make sure his insides are not filling up with blood.  I mean he did slip a little on his way to bed and anyone knows that if you fall on a mattress you can cause massive internal bleeding.