Skip to content

So, You're The Mother of Boys…

3 years ago

1069 words

Photo: This is what my sons wished they were doing this weekend. Instead, we were all inside the house watching stupid Paw Patrol because….


When Ursa Major woke up on Saturday morning, his eye was so swollen that he couldn’t open it. He screamed from his bed, then came out of his room and roused us. We got a look at it and were just appalled.

We gave him some children’s advil and an ice pack, then consulted the papers the ER sent us home with. “If swelling occurs around treated area, return to ER.”

I called instead, not excited about giving the hospital another $100 copay.

They told me I was doing all the right things. He had a significant injury to a sensitive part of his face. Swelling is to be expected.

I’ll tell you, Dear Reader, I’ve never seen a Black Eye before. Seriously. My sister and I neglected to injure ourselves this way, I don’t personally know any boxers and… I mean, I’ve only seen such injuries in a television sort of way. To see it up close, on my child, is jarring. The swelling just got worse and worse, then it started to change colors… I kept asking professionals I talked to (the ER on Saturday, the Pediatrician off-hours hotline on Sunday, my pediatrician’s office this morning and I’ll get to that in a second) when I’m supposed to panic. When should I start to see improvement?

Well… Three weeks. Three weeks he’s going to look this way. His eye looks like a rainbow: green blotches, purple, red… it’s still quite swollen, a bit tender. The funny thing? The actual cut that started this whole mess is just fine! Healing nicely! The glue is holding!

And so is he. After the initial shock at that Saturday wake-up, the child has been in good spirits. Cuddly on Saturday… all he wanted to do was watch TV. Active on Sunday after a whole day of not going anywhere. He begged to go to school and I took him, thanking God that this is preschool and not middle school. In my “this is my first time at this rodeo” panic, I called my pediatrician this morning. I guess I used apocalyptic enough language  that they asked to see him. To be clear, I’m a mom who didn’t have time to be makin’ a trip into the city today, but I made it happen because I’m a time master.

The doctor (not my usual) looked at it… informed me that it is a nasty black eye. Quite intense for a child so young. She wondered if he should have the fluid around the area drained… I asked if he it would all go away. In weeks, I was informed. I made my peace with that (picture day is this week, of course, and we usually take our Christmas card pictures in October. This is perfectly timed!). I told her if there was no reason to do said draining outside of cosmetic reasons, there is no need.

So she left. I packed up. Minor had an epic poop disaster and I had to take care of it. Yeah, that’s relevant. You know why? It bought the doctor enough time to get on the doctor internet and find a reason why I should get the drain thing after all. Something something unusual scarring. Something something pulling on the eyelid.

Next thing I know, I’m on the phone with a receptionist at a pediatric eye specialist in the area near my home. She’s asking me for Major’s general information. Then she asks me if I’m familiar with where they are… I’m like, “well, Google will get me there.”

“And where will you be traveling from?”

“My home… it’s in [town]. Not far at all.”

There is a pause. “No, I mean… you aren’t at your home now, are you?”

“No…” then my brain clicks in. “Wait, I’m going to your office right now?

“Yes. We’re going to hold the office open for you.”

You gotta understand Dear Reader: On a good day, with no traffic, it takes about 45 minutes to get from my Pediatrician to my home. There is a lot of construction and nonsense going on around the city right now: entire new roads being built, a bridge being rehabbed, pipe laying… I dunno. I’m just saying, I told this woman it would take at least an hour. And she was like, “great, well, get here as soon as you can.”

Dear Reader…

For real…

No tickets, no accidents, my car is intact but I made her work for it. And yeah, we got there in an hour because I’m good at my damn life!

Did the doctor drain to coagulating fluid building up around my son’s eye?

You know the answer, don’t you?

“I understand her question and her concern, but I’m of the opinion that it will reabsorb. It will move around his face and turn all sorts of colors but, eventually, it should all go away. I’m concerned about hard fatty lumps forming where the swelling has been extreme so… come see me in 2 weeks, ok? No more advil, no more ice. But don’t let him do freeplay or recess or anything at school. Quiet activities where he sits down are best for the next 3 weeks. Ok?”


You’re crazy.

Everyone is crazy.


Or just exhausted. That’s it… exhausted…

The bottom line is that my son has quite the bruise, but he’s ok. My Christmas card is either going to be severely delayed or heavily photoshopped, but that’s ok. I’m still behind, another writing day was lost but, again, that’s ok. I’m here. We’re here. It’s Monday and there is a lot to do.

So much to do. Like clean this house top to bottom because we’ve got special guests coming for dinner tomorrow. They were supposed to come on Thursday, but then had to come tomorrow. Entire house cleaned in 24 hours? Fancier than usual dinner and dessert prepared and served? Two little boys somehow well behaved? Accomplish all of that and all of the usual things that I generally do in a regular day?

I’m ready. These are the days I live for.

What’s your challenge this week, Dear Reader? Knock it over. You can do it. Keep up the good fight until I see you on Wednesday. Until then, take care.

8 Replies to “So, You're The Mother of Boys…”

  1. Cuh-rackin me up! Your voice had somethong extra awesome in this post, and it raised my spirits, which I sorely needed. That knock on the head is having psych effects Im trying to stay ahead of. Needed your awesome to wake up my awesome. Thanks for that.

    Glad he’s okay. Don’t wanna be messin with no eyeballs. Good panic. And nice drivin Vin Diesel. Boston is constantly under construction from what Ive been told, so well done there!

  2. Is it ridiculous to suggest a playful Christmas card with the Ursa’s dressed in pirate gear?
    Major could sport an eye patch & you could write some haiku including the joys of Christmas, & the thrill of raising boys, or no-patch & the miracle of the body?
    What a DAY you had!
    Full-on Ma-mode.
    Deep bow to you

    1. Ok seriously, I love this idea. And, thanks to you, I have a general idea of how I am going to explain my year in our Christmas letter. So pumped!

      When I get my friend to take our Christmas photos, I’ll post some. Hopefully at least one will have cool pirate theme!

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: