close

As parents we do our best to shield and protect our kids. We remind them, "Be Careful." We tuck away chemicals, cleaners, medicines, razors and the like. As parents of siblings we are used to the shriek of a cry because a toy was snatched, hair was pulled, a chubby arm bitten. As I was nonchalantly folding laundry this morning Keira walked in to rifle through the pile looking for her favorite yellow skirt. She found it, happy, she went over to the dresser to retrieve socks (she likes to wear mismatched socks and insists upon it-on even the warmest of days). And there is was. That shriek and cry I am so used to.

But no other sisters were around. I didn't even put down the small pajama pants of Kennedy's I was folding and went to her. Her hand cupped over her eye I pulled it back and reeled internally. "Oh shit." I thought as salty tears mixed with the blood running from her eye down her cheek. I scooped her up and with a cold towel I pressed against her face. Picking up my BlackBerry I called her doctors office. It looked like it would need a single stitch or two but I really didn't want to haul everyone to the E.R. I explained this all to the receptionist who said, "Well, you're in luck, we have a 9:50 available."

I pulled the phone away to look at the time. 9:40. We are at least a fifteen minute drive, I am holding one bleeding child while two others dance around me still in their pajamas and my nanny was due to arrive at 10:00. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." I told the receptionist. Exiting out of that call I pressed the K button for our nanny. "How quickly can you get here?" I asked.

"What happened sweetie?" The nurse asked Keira pulling away the ice pack she had held to her face the whole ride to the doctors office.

"I bonked."

"On what?"

"Kennedy's dresser." That's where I keep all the kids socks. Keira had opened the drawer, grabbed out one navy sock and one pale pink sock. She went to close it and it stuck, being a finicky antique. She gave up on closing the drawer and bent down to put her socks on-bashing her poor little face in the process.

The doctor came in and asked the same questions while cleaning out her cut. "There are three options for this sort of wound." He said speaking to me. "Ideally I'd like to glue it, but I can't so close to the eye. Our other options are we could stitch it or see how she does today with just a steri stip. If it stays on and doesn't bleed too much it will heal just fine. If not, you'll have to come back."

"Okay, let's do that."



And she got a sparkly pencil for being a good patient.