And now I am setting up a psychic hotline

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. 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…