This week is one that has been talked about for the better half of the winter. It is the week of the magical swimming lessons. Magical because the kids actually look forward to them. I love it because it is in a neighbor’s backyard pool.   I take up a whole block of lessons with all three boys taking a 1/2 hour lesson each. I hang out in the pool with the non-lessoning children and pretend it is my backyard. Summer magic. Rhett looking up in pool Today as Ryan was taking the first lesson, Rhett(3) was climbing up a damp rock wall on one side of the pool over a deep water area.   I waved him off the wall and uttered the following words… Rhett, be careful!   I don’t want to have to go to the hospital today. *insert dark ominous music here* Rhett climbed down and we had a really nice morning splashing in the magical pool during the magical lessons. We drove home for lunch.   I hopped in the shower while the boys played upstairs.   My mom had been with us at the pool and was starting lunch for the boys when she heard a blood curdling scream. She ran upstairs to find Rhett in a pool… Not a magical pool. A pool of blood. Blood that was continuing to run from his head. Ryan came running into the masterbedroom waking up blog-Stedman who was sleeping and running into the shower where I was leisurely conditioning my hair. Come NOW!   Grandma NEEDS you! I grabbed a towel and followed the screaming that was now located in the kitchen. Yep. Blood. Definitely blood. 911? Yep. I dialed. I gave the operator my information and then was slightly amused when she mentioned we shouldn’t feed him anything before the ambulence comes.   Huh?   I hadn’t even thought of food…is that a commonly encountered issue? *insert sirens in the distance moving closer and closer* The fire engine and ambulance parked in my driveway. *sirens blaring* *lights flashing* At this point we have cleaned off Rhett’s face and have uncovered an inch long forehead cut.   Probably not the most critical of emergencies. The emergency personnel evaluate Rhett and suggest that he WILL need stitches, but maybe an urgent care might be faster than a hospital.   We thanked the firemen and took a little tour of the ambulance…just for fun. Blog-Stedman and I headed out with Rhett to an urgent care.   We found a local Emergency Medical Clinic and saw the doctor immediately. Rhett ended up with a glued forehead. Before the doctor glued his forehead shut, he asked if Rhett would leave it alone.   He was a little worried about using glue on a three year old because it is essential that he doesn’t pick at it.   I said it was OK because Rhett is usually pretty good about those kind of things. Once home I reached to move Rhett’s hair to reveal the gluey mess to the older boys and grandma. Rhett looked up and screamed… The doctor said NOT TO TOUCH IT! It appears he has a good grasp over not messing with it. Now I am going to rinse the conditioner out of my hair…

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  1. OMG, Miss Holly – you are so much more suited for motherhood than I! I would have freaked completely.

  2. OY. Glad he’s okay. And apparently you can just use SuperGlue. So you know for next time. Since you KNOW there will be a next time.

    I had my first set of stitches at around 2, second set at 6 and third set at 7 or 8. The ones at 6 were the best, from about a 1.5″ gash to my forehead which required a plastic surgeon and 18 sutures. Nice. Also? The ones from 7 or 8 were received when we were on vacation on Washington D.C. My had hit me in the face with a camera (on accident, supposedly) and busted my lip on the steps of the Capitol Building.

    I feel a post coming on about this.


  3. Oh man. Some days you just know it’s coming. Boy Weasel has been stapled and glued so many times on his head we call him Humpty Dumpty.

  4. LOL – Did he smack your hand away as well?

    I’m thinking I need to take Youngest up there and have that magical doc tell him to stop itching his mosquito bites – the kid is going to be scarred for life.

    Sorry for all the drama – but hey, it made for an excellent post 🙂

  5. Do you ever sleep? No matter how early I get up you have posted and I would rather be in bed. OUCH. Poor baby. Can he swim? Get it wet? From my blog you probably know that my GS and a neighbor boy take private lessons in my pool. We have been chanting “Don’t break anything” for 4 weeks now.