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Friday, September 14, 2012

Too Much to Handle Alone

#s 5, 6, and 7 were out in the backyard playing this afternoon. It was just like any other Friday when the weather's good.

image credit: nachi.org
Suddenly, I could hear #7 crying. I wasn't familiar with this cry, but #2 was talking to the boys trying to figure out what was wrong. When the crying didn't subside after a few seconds, I went out to the backyard. #7 had been trying to get a bike from the side yard of the house. I asked the boys what had happened. I heard, "A bee was on m' hand!" Said between shrieks.

I asked the boys if she'd been stung. They didn't know.

image credit: bee-stings.net
I got her into the house, and she continued to cry. Sure enough on the middle finger of her left hand right above the middle knuckle was a very large stinger with all kinds of nasty-looking puss coming out of it. I knew from first aid classes I've taken that you don't use tweezers to get a stinger out, but in the state that she was in, I knew I had to hurry, and I had to be smart. She was freaking out and wasn't going to be all that patient.

I asked for my computer to be brought to the table. The instructions were LENGTHY. I didn't want long explanations of why you do things, I just wanted to have a couple words telling me what to do. UGH!

image credit: wired.com
I had the two little boys standing there staring at me doing nothing; maybe they were just waiting for instructions. #2 had returned to writing his paper in the front room. I guess he knew I had things in control. Don't kids always think that about their moms? I asked one of the boys to get me a needle (to flick the stinger out with). I asked the other boy to get some ice. They both went to get what I'd asked for. Although, a needle couldn't be found, so I was handed a safety pin instead--no matter, it was just to flick with, so whatever.

I flicked the stinger out and asked for some rubbing alcohol and some dirt to make mud with. Dirt was not brought back, it was a mixture of old dead grass and who knows what else. I was a bit frustrated at the lack of knowledgable help I had standing around me. Where were the kids I could count on to know where everything was that would just jump and do it without too much being said?

image credit: en.wikipedia.org
During all of this #7 was still screaming. Ugh! It also became apparent that there was another stinger. After asking about it, she moved to reveal one in her right forearm--just where it's hard to reach with her sitting on my lap. I flicked that one out also and applied the ice as much as she'd allow and then doused two cotton balls with rubbing alcohol and put them into place. She kept hollering that she needed a bandaid, so #6, trying to be the best brother he could be, prepared the bandaids. The entire time, I tried to stop him from wasting bandaids, "Buddy, she's not bleeding. She doesn't need a bandaid." Somehow her pleas were more important than mine, so there he stood, on the ready with a bandaid in hand and poised for application. 

The screaming on #7's part and the lack of listening on #6's part were stressing me out. I finally couldn't take it any more.

image credit: ehow.com
It's been that kind of day from the beginning, so I put #7 down on the chair and went up to my room and locked the door. How could I handle this better? Yes, there was chaos downstairs, but I had to have a second to think. I knelt down and expressed my inadequacy..."I can't handle this...." and asked for help..."Take it away."

When I got up, I calmly opened my door and said, just loud enough so the kids downstairs could hear it, "[#7], you may come up as soon as you're done crying." She started to climb the stairs, shrieking. I shut the door and, as I did so, reminded her that she had to stop. She did. I opened the door; tears were streaming down her cheeks, but no sound came from her mouth. 

She came in climbed onto my bed and the crying started up all over again. I walked out into the hallway, and as I shut the door, reminded her that she had to stop crying, and I would be back in as soon as she was done. The crying stopped instantly.

image credit: zombielogicblog.blogspot.com
I called to #2 and told him that he was the only one who could help me in this situation, so even though I knew he was working on a paper, he needed to stop for just a few minutes. I asked him to bring me an Excedrin from my purse (not sure how I knew to do this. My computer was still down on the kitchen table, and I hadn't gotten this far in the instructions....I was punting. I just knew I needed something with aspirin in it), a cup, and a spoon.

When he arrived with these items, I went into the bathroom and poured a very small amount of water into the cup and dropped the pill in. I sat and stirred it until the pill was dissolved. I asked #2 to lounge next to me on the bed and hold #7. She climbed onto his lap and laid her head back on his chest. She tried her best to stay calm.

image credit: head-fi.org
I asked #5 to bring me two Q-tips. With the Q-tips, I applied the Excedrin water on the spots. She cried as I did it, and I encouraged her to stop, so she whimpered instead. I can handle whimpering in situations like this. Soon the whimpering stopped and she just laid there leaning on her brother. I asked her how she was doing. She said, "Good."

"Do they hurt you?"


After a few minutes she started to whimper gain, so I applied a bit more. We kept this up for about ten minutes, and the pain had subsided. She got up and started running around, and things have been fine ever since.

image credit: flickr.com
I used to think that if I prayed, it would take time to get into heaven or something. I don't know what I was thinking. I just always thought it would take time to be heard. Since I've become a mom, I know that answers can be instantaneous. So glad to know He's watching out for us! I wonder if my mom knew this too; I'm pretty sure she did. That must be how she survived days like this.

1 comment:

Lena Baron said...

Thank you Julie! This one hit home again! Thank you for sharing!!

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