Why I Dare Not Take All 3 to the Pediatrician

It's been some kind of week. Our injury rate is now one significant injury per child, per day.

On Wednesday, Adam was riding his bike. He had been playing on his new skateboard right before he hopped on his bike, and he was wearing every protective device we own: helmet, elbow pads, wrist guards, and knee pads. Unfortunately the wrist guards made it impossible for him to use the handle brakes on his bike, and he crashed. Of course he landed on the one area that wasn't armored: his face.

Last night, I went to a meeting. When I came home, Steve told me Libby had fallen off a kitchen chair and landed on the tile floor...on her face. She was in bed when I came home, but I got a good look at her sad, bruised little cheekbone this morning.

So it was pretty fun to walk these two into preschool this morning looking like they had been tossed into a tiger's cage wearing meat helmets and try to explain in a credible fashion that coincidentally they both managed to scrape up their faces significantly within a day of each other.

Meanwhile, Andrew had been home from school for two days with a high fever. Miserable, but at least he didn't look battered. Until...

Today I asked the kids to go wash their hands before lunch, and somehow Andrew's finger got closed in the bathroom door. (Ewwwwwwwww.) The fingernail turned black almost immediately (ewwwwwww), and Andrew was in a lot of pain. So I knew we had to take him to the doctor right away.

But then I looked around at my brood.

Individually, they are pitiful. Pathetic. Bless their hearts.

Together, they scream, "Someone call Children's Services!"

Thankfully Steve was able to meet me at the pediatrician's to take the littles home while I took Andrew and his finger in because there is no way I could have taken them all in looking like that and not been escorted out by the police.

** Stop reading here if you have a weak stomach. **

So the doctor had to burn a hole in Andrew's fingernail to relieve the pressure and hopefully save the nail.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwww.

** You may resume reading. **

And we were done.

Until Andrew's leg "just started hurting" (???) upon leaving the exam room.

Now he is walking with a limp. It goes nicely with his tear-streaked face and the huge wad of gauze on his middle finger.

I give up.