stitches.

What.a.week. I don't know the last time I was so mentally and physically exhausted. Taking care of sick kids I can deal with. Taking care of hurt kids? Oh goodness, it's so hard. 

A week ago Simon was playing on the kitchen chairs, as he normally does while we clean the floors and he slipped and fell. Of course, this happened just 2 hours before Matt and I were supposed to head out for a long date day. I was upstairs getting ready and heard the cry. You know, the pain cry. Not the annoyed cry or tired cry or frustrated cry but the painful shriek that happens when something is really, really bad. Then 3 seconds later I heard the yell from Matt, in the voice that I knew meant something wasn't good.

I raced downstairs to see a lot of blood, a lot of tears and a lot of panic in Matt. Simon's lip was completely wide open and we knew we needed to get to the ER fast. 

Luckily we were able to drop the kids off at a friends house on the way to the hospital and sweet little Simon bravely sat in the car with a huge wet towel on his face covering up his wound. I still can't believe how calm he was.

 After several hours in the ER, 4 grown adults holding him down, lots of medicine that really just made him super disoriented, loopy and quite honestly, buzzed he ended up with 9 stitches in his upper and lower lips. Some dissolvable, many of them not. The swelling, the pain, the medicine...he was a mess. And...let's be honest, so were we. It was a long battle to get the stitches in and we all just crashed on the couch that night once we were home.

 Then it began the week long battle of keeping him comfortable while he tried to talk, eat and play. The doctors were shocked his teeth were okay (thank goodness!) but were worried about a concussion so we needed to have quite a bit of downtime for a few days.

 Luckily, lots of books, movies and playdoh helped.

 But poor guy was miserable at times.

 It hurt to smile, it hurt to talk, it hurt to brush his teeth. And then came Friday! The stitches could be removed! I should have known better but the staff made it sound like it'd be a quick, painless process so I opted to go by myself while the kids were at school and Matt was at work. Bad idea. It was a nightmare. From the trauma earlier in the week to the anxiety he had and the sensitive area of the stitches poor Simon just lost it. He was anxious, screaming, hitting, throwing and so aggressive. I had to hold him down for the attending doctor to slowly and painfully remove each and every little stitch, knowing that the resident on staff just wasn't experienced enough to tackle this case.

 In the end we were both in tears, both exhausted and both so happy it was over. I even got a teeny little smile out of him when we walked out the door, knowing a trip to his favorite froyo place was in order.

 But, the sweets had to wait because he crashed in the car the second I got back on the road to drive home! Poor guy was wiped out from a morning (well, a week really) of pure hell. He snored away for over an hour before waking up and excitedly saying he felt better and wanted some chocolate ice cream with extra sprinkles.

 And that's exactly what he got. Every little drop of it. And so well deserved.

 After such a hard week I was so grateful for a normal family weekend. We had basketball games, movie nights and lots of sunshine to run outside and play. Simon had his energy back and we all got the fresh air we needed.

Deep down I just knew Simon would be the first kid to get stitches in our family. He's fearless, brave and always trying to keep up with the big kids. Let's just pray we don't have to go through that again!