Sweet Words and Stitches

This has been a funny day.  Well, funny and not so funny.  This afternoon I was cutting Beckett's fingernails (a chore that should probably be done more often than it is), when we got to talking about "someday when he had kids."  I was interested in what he would come up with, so I asked him how many kids he would have.

He said, "Two is enough, or one is enough.  Three isn't enough."

"Oh", I said. "Why isn't three a good number?"

"Because then I'd have to make three bowls of oatmeal!" he said thoughtfully.

We eat oatmeal for breakfast nearly every day. I told him he didn't have to make oatmeal every day and that he could make something else like waffles or pancakes.  His next reply was priceless.

"If I had a girl, I'd make her a heart pancake."  :)

I just gave him a big hug.  Sweet boy.

(Jump to later that night)

We went to Freddy's Frozen Custard for a belated Family Night treat.  When we pulled into the driveway, his little friend Kayla from church was at our house to deliver her birthday invitation to Beck.  He excitedly ran up to the porch while we were talking to her dad when we heard Beck start to cry.  Honestly, I figured he'd just fallen down, as he often does, and was just really tired and overreacting, but as I approached him and turned him around I saw otherwise.  Blood was running from his head down his face.  He cried that a brick hit him, although it was really the other way around. Poor boy! We took him into the house, and I had Corey call the pediatrician while I tried to assess the real damage.  It wasn't pretty and it was bleeding badly, as all head wounds do (as I know well since Beck's had a couple prior to this).  I was pretty sure it needed some stitches, so off we went.  He was ranting and crying about not wanting to go to the dr. On the way there, I told him he could play games on my phone, which calmed him down almost instantly.  We were taken back quickly and he did indeed need stitches, but only 2.  He happily played on my phone the whole time, even while they fixed him up, shots, stitches and all, which actually turned out to be a great distraction.  He did great and felt pretty proud of himself when it was all over. He's even excited that his stitches are blue, his fave color.  On the way out he ran (oh, no more running!) and grabbed a well earned sticker, then brought the basket over to me and wanted me to pick one too, which I thanked him for but declined.  Ah, sweet boy.  Although, maybe I should've taken one since I surely earned one as well.  I'm not usually one to cringe at blood, but when it's my own kiddo, things are definitely a little rougher to watch.  He came in the door, very proud of his bright orange bandaid across his forehead, and we assured a worried Asher and Daddy that all was now well. We made it through the night, and are hoping that we don't need to do this again any time soon.  Phew. What a day of ups and downs;)