Injury = Treats

11:30 am: phone rings, caller ID says Chatham Preschool. My first thought, "Now why could they be calling me, what did I forget?" I answer, and the conversation is as follows:
me: Hello
Mrs. Tina: Hello is this Aidan's mom?
me: yes it is
Mrs. Tina : Aidan had an accident, he's crying right now. He has a cut on the back of his head the size of a fingernail and it's bleeding.
me: Is it bad? (duh?)
Mrs. Tina: Well you need to see it.
me: I haven't gotten dressed yet and I have a dentist appt this afternoon ( I know your thinkng right now, what an idiot)
Mrs. Tina: Well it's our policy to advise you of his injuries, and he's bleeding.
me:OK I'll be there in 1/2 an hour
Mrs. Tina: ok
I frantically take a quick and much needed shower, throw somthing on, grab Aidan's medical record book, a bottle of children's Tylenol, and quickly head over to Chatham in record time. All this in about 15 minutes, tops.
I walk in, Aidan is sitting at one of the lunch tables, looking quite pathetic I might add. I walk over, realize his head and shirt are stiff with blood. I take a look an the wound, which is dime size but deep. I look up at Mrs. Tina, feeling very foolish now for my earlier hesitation, and tell her I'm going to step out for a couple of phone calls. I call his doctor, they schedule me in for 2:15. I call dentist, they schedule me in for Sept (I arghhh it's now June). I go back in, give Aidan a dose of Tylenol and we leave. Of course I thanked Mrs. Tina for all her help on my way out.

Now I'm feeling like a complete idiot and guilty for having considered that they might be overreacting and I not need come in at all. What is my response to this? Well since we have an hour and 1/2 before the appt and the office is 2o minutes away. We first go to the nearest shopping center, TJMaxx, where out of guilt I buy him a set of kids binoculars, a Thomas Train Pinball machine.

Appt. Time: Aidan gets 2 staples put in his head. I have to tell you he was the bravest little boy ever. Not a single tear, just a tight grip on mommy's arm and a squeal "owww"

OK now I feel even more guilty so what do I do. We stop at the Sweet Dreams Toy store where I proceed to buy him a police car, then to StarBucks where I buy him a chocolate milk (somthing we never indulge him in.

What must he think...injuries equals a fabulous afternoon of great treats. What good can come out of this?? Time to reevaluate how to handle injuries. Of course I feel bad, but I obviously did not have to overcompensate with all the treats. Would really just like to go dig a hole somewhere and put my head in it. These mom lessons sure are tough.