Mommy Lesson #5: It really might be that bad

Moral of the story: Sometimes they're right.

Today was a rough day for my boys.  First thing this morning, Monkey slammed his fingers in the door.  He cried and screamed, and grabbed his fingers and curled up on my lap... and cried and screamed and....
You get the point?  He was miserable.  I kissed his fingers, loved on him, soothed him, rocked him, hugged him, did all those things that mommys do when their little guys get hurt.

Then - he asked for a bandaid.  He's mostly gotten over that NEED when he gets hurt.. he insisted he needed one, and well, to be frank: I had other things that needed to get done.  Besides - bandaids don't help squashed fingers.

But he was right.  He opened up his little hand again and suddenly there was a pool of blood on one of his fingers - seriously, I had looked at his hand several times and there had been no blood.  I don't know what that's about.  Anyway, he got a bandaid.

It really was as bad as he made it seem.

***
Step forward in time several hours.  We were back outside, I was on the phone with my sister, picking up a toy from one side of the yard.  Crackers started screaming.  I turned and he was laying on the sidewalk, entangled in his Elmo airplane.  In his 19 month old wisdom, he decided to try out one of Monkey's favorite games - the one where he rolls on a "bike" down a hill.

I quickly scooped him up and loved on him, kissing his ouchies, comforting him, snuggling him.  He recovered very quickly and went off to play.

A couple hours later, I discovered he had a large knot on his head and had scraped it up pretty well.  His hair was covering it, so I had missed the real ouch.

It really was as bad as he made it sound.  He was right.