My poor kid. He broke his nose this weekend playing soccer. We counted back and we think this is break #5, but we’re not sure. I do know the when the ER doc walked in and saw Rader, his first words were: “Well this isn’t his first time is it?”
Sadly, no. His first time was at 18 months old.
You see, my son is very passionate at times. And when he was a toddler, and he didn’t get his way, he would throw a hissy fit and bang his head on the floor. And me, being the Mother of the Year that I am, would tell him every time, “That doesn’t hurt me at all, kiddo.” He would eventually realize that I was unsymapthetic to his plight and he would work on a different approach to get his way.
Well, one time he threw his fit and was banging his forehead…and he missed–hitting his nose instead. He was so shocked that we had stone cold silence for a couple of seconds as his nose started to gush. And again, me being Mother of the Year, I said, “I’m thinking that might have been your last hissy fit, what do you think?”
Commence the wailing.
I called his pediatrician (who happens to be a friend of mine from high school) and I said, “So, how do I know if my 18 month old has broken his nose or not?”
“Is it bleeding badly?”
“It’s broken. As long has he can breathe, there is nothing we can do about it. Give him benadryl and tylenol and just make sure he’s breathing okay.”
So fast-forward 12 years and here we are with break #5. I only took him to the doc because I was afraid this was the ONE. You know, the break so bad it would require immediate surgery.
And for the momma, an ice cold beer was prescribed. All’s well that ends well.