Our Poor Babies!

Our Poor Babies!  During the Spring and Summer this year, we had 3 trips to the Emergency Room, which is quite the rarity for us in our family (the only trip to the ER being when Little Miss R was 3, got hit in the head accidentally by a rake; her head needing staples).  But with active kiddos, especially an active little boy, Little Man C; I guess it was coming at some point.  Little Man C went twice, once for his forehead (he ran into a corner of a metal chair at McDonalds play-land) and once for his chin (he tripped and split it open).  He got 6 stitches for the first episode and super-glue for the second.  Mark took Little Man C in for the first (it being the most serious of all of our ER episodes), thankfully, and I was grateful for that.  It was hard enough to be there when it happened (at McD's), having to hold him still with a wet towel on his forehead, trying to stop the bleeding (with both of us crying).  Luckily, there were some really nice people there that called Mark for me, because I was a bit hysterical and trying to hold a very wiggly baby still.  Little Miss K (for her forehead owie; she got hit in the forehead accidentally by a broom) got super-glued also.  They figured that that would be less traumatic, for her, and still be able to hold it shut.  She behaved so well for them, holding still and doing exactly what they needed her to, that they said that she should come and teach a class to kids on how to act in there.  I was glad that she was doing what she needed to do.  It made it less traumatic, I think.  But I think she was nervous about it, though because she was talking to the staff, nurses, and physicians non-stop, constantly.  We gave them icecream, balloons or pizza after their trips to the Emergency Room.  Plus they got lots of stickers from the staff there.  I was quite upset the second time that I brought Little Man C in, because it was within only a few months, that all of these happened; and wondering if we need to put him in a bubble or something.  I asked the acting physician about it, and he said that he got stitches like 12+ times when he was an active little boy (before age 12).  His advice to me, "Calm down.  He'll be okay.  He'll grow out of it.  I did".  I have to admit, that did make me feel better.  Although, I hope that we don't have to take Little Man C in, as much as his parents did.  Well, I think we've had our fair share of this kind of excitement for now, and hopefully forever.