Good to Know

I learned something about myself the other day. I am, apparently, very useless in emergency situations. I guess this is a good thing for my family to know. Don't count on mom being in any state to help out if someone gets hurt, because it's just not gonna happen.

A couple weeks ago the boys were playing with some balloons in the living room. Carter hit his up in the air and ran to grab it when it landed. As he reached down to pick it up, my sweet little clumsy boy fell flat on his face. He does this quite often so I expected to go over, pick him up, and cuddle him for a bit until he felt better. But when I got to him and turned him over, his mouth was full of blood. By some miracle of miracles, Weston hadn't left for work yet (ok maybe it wasn't a miracle, maybe he was just being lazy that morning--thank goodness!) so I started yelling, "Weston! Blood!" and I took Carter over to the kitchen counter to assess the damage. As I was dabbing his mouth with a paper towel I started to feel pretty woozy. Crap. I know this feeling. Weston took over with Carter, I ran to put a screaming Hayley down for her nap, and then I sat in the kitchen with my head between my legs (as I think back on this, I wonder what poor Jackson was thinking--Carter's mouth is gushing blood and he is screaming, Hayley is tired so she is screaming, Daddy is trying to calm Carter down, and Mommy is sitting in the middle of the floor--poor kid). A few minutes later, I thought I was ok to help again so I went over to look what Carter had done to himself. Weston lifted up his lip, and I instantly felt the room start to spin. I went and sat on the couch and Weston brought Carter over to sit with me while he cleaned up the kitchen. A few minutes later I was startled awake by Weston saying, "Baby! Baby! You passed out!" I guess he had been trying to talk to me from the kitchen, and when I didn't respond he came over and found me laying on the couch twitching. Carter was still sitting in my lap--crying. Nice.

So, there you have it. Proof that I am a complete wuss when it comes to dealing with blood. This is kind of disconcerting as a mother of two boys--one of whom is completely accident prone. Here's to hoping that Weston is home for all of our future mishaps. Maybe I should teach Jackson first aid...

 I still get a little queasy looking at this. I'm so lame.

My poor fat-lipped little boy.