The week that was all Mondays

It simmered with awful all week and started to boil on Thursday night when we had one of those dinners where i just knew there would be chaos. I  made a few preventative attempts by setting the table ahead of time, even filling all the glasses for everyone beforehand and reminding the children that once dinner began they needed to stay at the table. 

It was total chaos. 

I tripped over a pair of shoes on the way to the table and in frustration barked at the child who had still not put them away. She kicked them under the table and I decided to choose my battles and just carry on with dinner. Soren was screaming for juice, Corbin was crying because Quincy had set out the forks he wanted to set, Q refused to eat dinner because "breakfast burritos are disgusting and I wanted grilled cheese" and so on. Little things that I should've known better to just ignore.  It was just a crazy night where everyone was tired, hungry, and sooo ready for bed. And Mr Saunchy bellowed juice requests at all of us throughout the meal, raising the decibel level up to the headache range.  

I could have remained calm, but unfortunately, I chose not to. I was mad that I was in fact, not June Cleaver, and a peaceful dinner was not going to happen. I was mad that the children were acting like children. I was mad that I was letting it make me mad. There were at least 2 kids out of their seat and running around the table at any given moment Soren's yelling for juice got louder as I told the children to sit back down and finish eating. For the sake of peace, Aaron finally surrendered his tall glass of OJ to Saunchy to silence his request as I totlh lost it and shouted, "Just. Sit. Down! Be still!" And the glass of orange juice dumped all over Soren, dinner, and the table. It then ran between the planks of the table and onto the floor, filling the new shoes that had been kicked directly under them. I hastily said in my horrid "mother knows best" voice, "I bet you wish you had listened and put those away now that they're full of orange juice." and consequently sent Reese into hysterics who marched up to her room, but not quite into her room, so we could still hear and be punished by her misery as she perched herself at the top of the stairs and cried. We finished eating in non-conversation accompanied by crying and complaints about gross dinner and a confession that Q had lost her custom ear plugs that she wears to swim, shower, etc. Corbin didn't make it to the bathroom and peed all over his mustache rug, which turns out us dry clean only (seriously, bathrug makers? Dry clean? Why?) I gave up on baths, helped Reese calm down, Aaron cleaned up Soren and I sent everyone to bed hastily. 

I started cleaning up the sticky orange juice mess and when I tilted Soren's chair  to lift it, a whole bunch of orange juice that had pooled on the seat under the booster sloshed out and all over me. 

I had was so done with this day.

SO done. 

I took the booster off, washed everything down, started mopping and ran out of steam. It had already been an emotional day for me as right before dinner I had come from a birthday visit at my sweet friend's house and she had told me she is dying. I went to bed crying for her and crying for my kids that I had lost my temper over spilled juice of all things. I KNEW the evening could've gone more peacefully if I had chosen to a) set a different tone, and b) reacted differently to everything that happened.

 

"Tomorrow is another day. Just be grateful to have a tomorrow and for the chance to try again." I told myself.

 Aaron consoled my feelings of failure with the same advice.

In the morning, Mr Saunchy was gone and a well rested, happy Soren greeted me with requests for oatmeal. I popped him into his booster seat, served him breakfast and headed toward my bedroom to get dressed.  

Crash! 

Soren was still buckled in the booster seat, and face first on the floor. 

In my angry cleaning fury the night before, I had mopped up the juice, but never reattached the booster TO the chair! And then I'd strapped my baby into the horrible trap and he was now screaming in pain. 

I immediately scooped him up and held him close to me and ran to the sofa to snuggle him up and console his owies that were totally my fault. After a minute of shaky sobs he looked up at me.

Blood. So much blood. 

Blood Everywhere. 

A busted chin, split almost an inch on impact would not quit bleeding. I knew right away it was going to need stitches and called our pediatrician. An hour later we were in his office getting checked out and it was decided that the area was too high tension and too big to be glued shut. Stitches for sure. They didn't charge me for our visit and sent us straight over to the ER. 

They wanted to sedate Soren for stitches but I begged them not to. Is there any other option? Soren was really calm (albeit bleeding still) and putting him under general anesthesia for 3 stitches seemed extreme. 

They gave him 3 treatments of local anesthesia and Soreb enjoyed a few Popsicles whole we waited 30 minutes for him to numb and for the cosmetic surgeon to arrive. 

The worst part for sure was as traumatizing for me as it was for him. They called it the papoose board and even though it was terrible, it was done after 10 minutes and I'm glad Soren didn't need to be sedated. First his wrists were strapped to his sides, then giant panels overlap and swaddle-velcroed him  until only his head was mobile. They covered everything but his chin with sterile cloths and he cried, "mama mama!" and I cried too while a nurse held his head still and they stitches his wound closed. 

It was horribly traumatic and a real boil over at the end of an already difficult week. Soren was down to one stitch left by Monday and part of me hopes it will just fall out, too, to save us a trip back to the ER to have it removed tomorrow. 

I know these things just happen. 

I know my kid is fine. 

I also know this was a wake up call to simmer down now. If I had been in a better frame of mind, I would've been aware of not attaching the booster seat. 

I'm thankful it wasn't worse. 

I'm thankful for "try again tomorrows."