Saturday, December 11, 2010

Another First.

When people talk about their kids, it's often about the firsts. You know, the first steps, first words, first embarrassing words in front of the in-laws (“She didn't learn that word from ME! I'm not even sure what that is!”). The first time a colon-blow escapes the diaper.

Last week, I had a rather unpleasant first. You see, it's all about the climbing. She finds the new perspectives exciting, and there's so much to discover, right in the rooms that she's always known. For instance, we were keeping a cooler in the kitchen (we need a new fridge...), and she triumphantly climbed it to find what was on the kitchen island. What held her attention for a remarkable amout of time was a little ceramic jar that we keep garlic in (That's my girl!). She would pull out a clove, then another. Then put them back in. Then pull them out again, taste one, then put them back in the jar. This amused her for about fifteen minutes. No lie, we made a note for Christmas. OK, we're not really giving her garlic for Christmas, but the “fifteen minutes” part is true.

Then she lost her footing. She smacked her mouth on the corner of the kitchen island, and cut the gum over her top front teeth. Naturally I grabbed her up and cuddled her, thinking that she had startled herself, and maybe had a bruise. At this time, Andrea was upstairs getting her hair done for her Christmas party by our friend Michelle. At first, Andrea wanted to run when she heard the cry, but Michelle said “Don't worry, I'm sure Will has a handle on it.”

It was about this time that I found blood on my shirt. My baby's blood, on my white shirt. It spelled out the words “You are an awful father, and should be disemboweled for your crimes, and your name should never be spoken by civilized folks again.”

What my wife heard was “Oh shit! Andrea!” There was enough of an edge of panic in my voice that Andrea came rushing downstairs, bowling over our friend. Doctors say that Michelle should be walking unassisted again by spring.

As I initially suspected, she was fine in minutes, smiling and cooing at the parent she hadn't seen in an hour, with blood smeared on her cheek. We got her cleaned up and her mouth rinsed out, and found that it was a really small cut.

At the Christmas party, all of the other parents said that it would be the first of many. One mother asked “Who was on duty?” She had a story of when her husband was 'on duty' that involved a garage door. I felt a little better.


  1. Kids are naturally clumsy! Don't feel bad - could've happened on anyone's watch.
    And if I ever come to your house, I'll ask if the garlic in the spaghetti sauce comes 'pre-licked' before eating.

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  3. Reminds me of the time our eldest - at two and a half years of age - came running into the dining room carrying not one, or two even, but three wonderful 'Cutco' knives (chef knife, bread knife, and fruit knife), all askew in his arms held closely to his chest, proudly announcing "Daddy Daddy, look what I do, I help tidy up!"... Interestingly enough our youngest repeated the same trick, with exactly the same knives just last year! Ooops! Bad Daddy!

  4. You'll begin to understand why people used to die around 40 years of age. I have no idea how people manage to make it to their 80's or 90's. Pure luck. Even as adults we do stupid stuff all the time.

    I love the part about the blood spelling out words.

  5. That's kids for you Will, pleased it wasn't more serious but it is frightening at the time.

    Have a peaceful Sunday

  6. Good thing it was just a little cut. Those little ones are pretty resilient. Hope you guys enjoy a Merry Christmas.

  7. Yup that first blood always gets a parent. One of my most horrible first was when I realized my oldest (who was 3 at the time) really liked cough medicine. I woke up in the middle of the night because something seemed wrong to me.

    I kept the medicine above the stove in the cupboard. anyway I walked out to the hallway and my childs bedroom light was on, so I walked in and there she lay on the floor with an empty bottle of cough medicine in her tiny hand, I freaked. Come to find out she had built a stepping way up to my top cupboard to get it while we were asleep and when I called the hotline for poison they made me make sure she could be woken and make sure she drank alot of water..other than that she was fine. I did as they said and nothing seemed to be wrong with her, but it scared me so badly I put a lock on her bedroom door.

    I felt like a horrible mother, but I had to make sure she was safe while we were asleep. It's crazy what kids manage to do.

  8. Oh, man--those curious kids just spend several years displaying apparent evidence that we don't appropriately monitor them, don't that? Skinned noses, bruised foreheads. My son was a menace, though the daughter got knocked down our back steps by the dog more than once, so we have pictures of her with face scabs... and mouths bleed A LOT! (they heal fast, though)

  9. Dad's usually "on duty" when the shit goes down ; )

  10. what? haha a garage door? now I'm interested. Aww poor Cali but kids are tough they bounce back

  11. Aww, those firsts are always the hardest ones!