The intention was to have just one meeting today at home whilst the boys were having their afternoon sleep and to just milly around the house and be with the children. In fact this went according to plan, but the day wouldn't remain as simple as this as I was soon to learn.
Our middle child (OT) is a lovely boy currently aged 3 and a half. His character is lively and social and he's gentle and caring. On top of this he's also going through the terrible three's right now, so is developing an attitude at times and has bursts of energy which he sometimes lets take over him. Anyway to keep this story kinda short what basically happened was that OT was playing wildly (as usual) in the hallway. I'd called him a couple of times to calm down, but in his rave he didn't listen. Suddenly I head a loud bang and him crying quite loudly. I ran to him and saw his head had a blue line almost 2 centimetes in a vertical direction. There was no blood for the first 3 seconds and then there was...it dripped down in the form of a red water droplet towards his nose. His crying escalating. So as I grabbed him and headed off to the bathroom, I then saw the extent of his injury, The wound was as well as being quite long for his little forehead, was also about half a centimeter wide. A trip to the hospital would be required and stitches would be inevitable.
Whilst dabbing his forward with a cold wet rag, escorting the smallest child (Harv) away from naughtyness and asking the oldest (Jaz) remove the cats from their resting place (our bathroom), I managed to get mij blackberry, call the doctor to explain what had happened and speed dial hubby Olaf. Multitasking at it's best. I was quite calm amongst the chaos, but poor Ot was shocked, stunned and in pain.
So Olaf was home within 7 minutes and I was downstairs fully prepared with change for the parking meter, Ot's medical card in my hand and instructions which Olaf needed, completely memorised. With Ot hand in hand we were at ground level a minute later. Husband and my first son would drive away to the doctor who would use glue (sounds weird, I know) to stitch the skin together. By this time Ot was calm and quite excited about going to the hospital. Then I told him it would be a trip to the doctor instead and his enthusiasm dropped.
30 minutes later both O's were back and little O had a winnie the poeh plaster on his head and underneath a tight swallow plaster pushing the skin together. Ot was proud of his wound and his plaster and that made everything alright for my boy despite his injuries.
