Tale of Two Days

Saturday was awesome.

It started off rough.  At 6am, Aidan was screaming “MOMMY, JUICE!” from the bottom of the stairs over and over.  Each word was pushed into my brain like a knife.  Because I’m a parent, I have learned that I only care about peace, so I marched downstairs, got Aidan his juice out of the fridge, and returned to my bedroom to pop some pain meds and try to sleep a little bit longer.

30 minutes later, my nightmare was interrupted by “MOMMY, ROCKET!” being chanted/yelled at the bottom of the stairs by Aidan.  What the f- is he talking about?  What rocket?  OH!  THAT rocket.

I stomped back down stairs and hunted down the rogue rocket from the night before.  The other two boys gave me a “Hi, Mommy” that only two morning people can give.  I found the rocket and returned upstairs.  I took migraine medicine and went back to bed.  I probably wasn’t going to fall asleep soon.  So I got up.

After texting with a friend for a while and trying to come up with a breakfast idea, I finally decided on French toast.  Because we had homemade cinnamon bread and old hot dog buns.  And because it was May Fourth and I own Star Wars inspired sandwich cutters.  So I made two X-Wing Star Fighter and a Tie Fighter.

About this time, I realized that I have to break my no-caffiene-before-lunch rule.  I cracked open an energy drink.  I wondered if I’m going to die from horrible disease caused by caffeine.  But let me quote my baby brother.  “We’re all going to die from cancer any ways.  We might as well live a little.  (as in: “Mom is going to kill you when she finds out you’re still nuking stuff in butter tubs.”  “Fae, we’re all going to die from cancer in any ways; we might as well live a little; I’m dangerous like that.”  Good point.  Why don’t I just throw out my sunscreen and hats?)

The boys had already decided they wanted to go to Lego Club instead of the zoo.  I had a carrot to get them to move and get dressed and get chores done.  Never over look a carrot!  We had two hours, which means nothing at all with my boys.  But for normal people, that is plenty of time to get dressed and do a few chores.  Given the options, the boys chose getting ready for the day first.

I decided it was a picture day, which means I take random pictures of things throughout the day and send them to annoy a special person.  Like “This is breakfast!”  “Yes, I’m drinking an energy drink at 8am!”  “Look; I’m out of vanilla.”  “This is the underwear I’m going to wear.”  Scratch that.  I don’t think I sent that one.

The boys got dressed and did their chores.  Mostly.  We had to clean up the family room for Evan to vacuum the rugs.  I was able to get dressed and exercise.  We made it to Lego Club 5 minutes late, which is fine because it lasts 90 minutes, but that also means I wasn’t able to find out the price of plastic kiddie pools at the hardware store.

Lego Club was great.  I took tons of pictures of the boys building things and posted them on Facebook.  Aidan got bored and took tons of pictures of me, which I did not post on Facebook.  Near the end, Evan and Sean teamed up with two other boys to compete with another group of four boys to build the tallest tower with those huge toddler Legos.  It was awesome to watch them work as teams.  When Lego Club ended, the teams knocked over their towers and raced to help clean up. 

Before we left the library, we checked out Sean’s art piece from school and looked at a few books.  We left with Lego books and a bunch of books of mythology and fairy tales.  Evan was disappointed that all the Viking mythology books were checked out.

We met my parents and the Friendly Giant for lunch at a new burger joint.  Burgers and custard for everyone.  Then Aidan fell asleep on the way home.

Then it was homework time.  After a little bit of whining and complaining, Evan listened to me explain the importance of an introductory paragraph and a conclusion paragraph.  We worked together on it after I told him, “No, I’m not doing it for you; I’ve already written several state reports when I was a kid.”  Sean sat down and did his homework, insisting that drawing a dragon for his favorite character was what his teachers wanted.  “Draw something that lives on Earth.”  “They do live on Earth.”  “Draw something that is in a zoo.”  “Some zoos have dragons.  Mommy, dragons are real.”  Fine.  He has the rest of his life to not believe in dragons.  Not that I stopped.  So I asked him to draw his second favorite animal, which was a king cobra.  Then he worked on his teacher appreciation gifts.

By the time Aidan was awake, homework was done, and we got ready to go to my parents’ house to go swimming.  Only I forgot this was the first swim of the year, so the bag wasn’t packed with swimsuits, sunscreen, and other random, needful things.  The boys were excited to wear their new bathing suits, and I learned that Aidan’s hand-me-down was just not going to work.  As soon as the cover was off, the boys were in, and I climbed in after them- and dear god, it’s cold.  Maybe more like too cool.  But still colder than I thought I would be.  After suffering for five minutes, I decided to f- it and dove in to swim a few laps to get warm.  God, I missed swimming.

The Friendly Giant showed back up.  It’s always a great day when my baby brother shows up to go swimming with the boys.  He’s a giant play ground and diving board and water fountain all rolled into one.  I did kick the boys out when their lips turned blue and they began to chatter.  “I’mmmmm no-no-not c-c-c-cold.”  Right.  As my dad pointed out, “Look at naked Aidan; he’s got blue balls.”  And the crowd boo-ed.

Then I decided to be an amazingly awesome mom in the eyes of the boys.  We picked up McDonald’s and had a picnic lunch watching Star Wars: New Hope.  Because it was May 4th.  Because Sean said, “We should watch the fourth one because it’s May fourth.  Fourth.  Get it?”

We ended the day with bedtime and a small bedtime rebellion.  And it was awesome.

Unlike Sunday.

When my hair was a chaotic mess from swimming the day before.  WhenI got us to church 15 minutes early.  When I learned I lost my wallet when I went to pay for our food at the bakery.  When I was so super glad my wallet was back at church under the pew.  When that whole bakery-tear apart purse and car-drive to the church- go back to the bakery fiasco took WAY TOO LONG.  When I left the boys to their own devices for 30 minutes, giving them enough time to dump out ALL OF THE LEGOS and ALL OF THE IMAGINATRIX toys and a large container of toys.  When I withheld lunch because they refused to clean.  When it took 45 minutes to clean up the mess.  When I argued with Evan because he refused to finish his chose.  When my brilliant mother’s day gift idea failed miserably.  When I had tons of salt dough and no idea what to do with it.  When Sean argued, whined, and complained about doing homework.  When Evan took all damn afternoon to copy his state report in nice handwriting without grammar and spelling errors.  When we were running late due to the report so I decided to make Evan take it to my parents’ house.  When I learned Evan didn’t grab any blank paper.  When I had to run home for blank paper.  When I had to clean up the car from the tearing apart earlier.  When I couldn’t figure out a dinner menu.  When we stayed slightly too late at my parents’ house.  When the boys tried to refuse a bath.  When they decided to drench the bathroom.  When they decided they wanted to go to bed naked.  When the older boys wrestled and messed with each other instead of going to bed.  When Aidan had to keep getting out of bed to get books for an hour.  When poor Evan woke up with diarrhea and announced he had a poop accident in the bathroom.  When I realized I was out of bread.  When I was no longer manic and was tired and wanted to go to bed but I had homework and housework to do.

Sunday was less than awesome.

Those are my singing boys

The other Sunday was Children’s Day at the Lutheran preschool/kindergarten Sean goes to.  Like a good family, we went because Sean was singing and it’s a lot of fun after the service with snacks, crafts, and a bounce house.  If more churches had bounce houses after services, more people would go.

It was a nice service.  The children came in singing.  We were smooshed because Evan refused to sit further away from me, and then we didn’t have enough room for Sean when he came.  Aidan sat in the aisle looking through books.  I wanted tell the new parents, across the aisle, with the babbling baby that it was ok.  She was quite the talker.  But the best part came half way through the services when the congregation had to sing “Jesus Loves Me.”

Evan and Sean belted out the song.  It was the first time I had ever heard them sing together.  I was filled with gratitude and love.  I began to cry a little. 

I cried because I was so lucky to raise these boys.  I’m lucky to see them every day and be with them.  I get to hear about their days and thoughts.  I get to watch them grow and do amazing things.  I get to see them try new things and do silly things.  I get to read them bedtime stories and tuck them in at night.  I get to know them and help shape them into the good guys.  I cried because I know one day I’ll have to share custody and I won’t see them every day.  I will miss them when they aren’t being loud and funny and annoying.  My house will be quiet and empty.  As tough as it is to have the boys 24/7, to always be on the clock, they are my boys, and I prefer them with me.

The boys sang every word at the top of their lungs.  Every tear I tried to wipe away secretly.  Only it turned out the boys were louder than anyone else in the church, so people were looking around for them and would smile at the boys.  And of course, they saw me crying.  Also a little blonde toddler jumping up and down next to his brothers.

Since everyone saw me cry, several woman, walking down the aisle for communion, squeezed my shoulder and asked if I was all right.  After church, several women came up to me after church and asked me how I was and told me how wonderful my boys were.  One of my friends came up to me and asked, “Were you crying because it was so funny or because you were sad?”  Honestly, both.  She gave me a hug and said, “I wanted to go over and do this since the song.”

I’m so lucky to be the mother of these smart, funny, crazy, silly guys.  Even with the nagging, yelling, scolding, eye rolling, heaven-help-me’s, stomping, growling, yanking, are-you-kidding-me’s.  They’re my boys.  And I love them.

Now I’m off to nag them back to homework and give them hugs.

The Church Match

It’s pre-summer here, and the days are starting earlier, so the boys are starting earlier, which means, hell, if we’re up, we might as well go to church. 

Round 1

So the other day I leaned over the rail and called to Evan.

Me: Go get dressed!  We’re going to church!

Evan: If we’re going to church, I’m going to wear this!

He spread out his arms, so that I could feast my eyes on his outfit.  A blue hooded-towel to resemble a penguin and black pajama pants with skulls and crossbones.  I cocked an eyebrow.  Pssht.

Me: That’s fine!  God doesn’t care what you wear!  Do you care?

I turned and walked into my room to finish getting ready.  I heard someone stomping up the stairs.

Round 1: Winner: Fae!

Round 2

I placed a plate with biscuits and a glass of milk on the table in front of each boy.  I drank my shake.

Evan took a bite of biscuit, lost in thought.  Then he leaned forward on his elbows.

Evan: Mommy.  You know I don’t believe in the same things you do.

I cocked an eyebrow.

Me: That’s fine.  As long as you made a thoughtful decision, that’s perfectly fine. 

Evan: I may not be Catholic.

Me: And that’s ok.  We all need to question our faith to find our path.  “The opposite of faith is not doubt.”  It is good to doubt and question.  But you’re still going to church.

Evan sat back in his rear and ate his biscuit.

Point.  Game.  Set.  And match.

Round 2: Winner: Fae!

Until next Sunday.  Or until I make him do stuff for religious class.  Or until I make him do Cub Scout stuff.  Or homework.

I’m Batman

I got Aidan a Batman shirt for his birthday.  Because if you can be Batman, you should always be Batman.

And of course, if you buy your kid a Batman shirt, especially a cute little toddler, then you have to teach him to say, “I’m Batman.”  Especially if you’re a nerd.  (Or go to their site because they have stuff that is so funny you’ll cry or snort out soda out your nose.  Then you can email me, and we can talk about our favorite videos.  It’ll be fun.)

So through the day, I would say, “Aidan, say ‘I’m Batman.’”  And Aidan would say “I’m Batman!”  It was adorable.

Until Evan manipulated it.

Evan: Aidan!  Aidan!  Tell Mommy where you want to go for dinner?!

Aidan: Batman want McDonald’s!

Um, yeah.  About manipulation.

Me: No McDonald’s.

Evan: But Mom-myyyyy!  You said anywhere he wanted.

Me: Anywhere HE wanted but NOT McDonald’s.

Aidan: Batman wants McDonald’s!

But then Aidan took control.

Aidan: Batman wants to go home!

Aidan: Batman play cars!

Aidan: Batman tired!

Aidan: Batman pooped!

I no longer can tell if this is cute or not.

Raising Feminist Nerds

I have a picture I printed off Pinterest taped near my computer.  (Since I have no idea what I’m doing, I can’t show you.)  Can you guess which part of the comic I have on my wall.  It’s Mulan and Eowyn high fiving.

Evan: MOMMY!  I know why you have that picture taped on your wall!

Me: What picture?

Evan: The Lord of the Rings one!

Me: Why’s that?

Evan: Because you like Mulan and Lord of the Rings.

Me: Yes.  Do you want to know what the picture is about?

Evan: Uh-huh.

Me: Well, you know what Mulan is about.  Eowyn did the same sort of thing.  She snuck into the army and saved the day.  Do you want to hear the story?

Evan: Yes!

Me: Well the forces of Sauron were attacking Gondor.  And Aragon convinced the men of Rohan to go to the defense of Gondor.  So off they went riding horses to battle.  For Glory!  (I raised my hand in salute.)  But Eowyn was to be left behind because they didn’t let girls fight battles.  And she was sad and scared.  She didn’t want the people she loved to be killed in battle.  She didn’t want to be left behind, locked in a cage, waiting for something to happen, instead of going out and having adventures.  So the horseriders of Rohan rode and joined battle with Gondor to defeat Sauron.

The boys stood there, staring at me, savoring every word.

Me: And things weren’t going well for Gondor.  Not only were there so many, many orcs.  But they had The Witch King who rode the horrible Nazgûl.  It was a fierce and ugly monster, looking like a black dragon with a long neck.  The Nazgûl’s screams sent fear in the soldiers.  No one could stand against the Witch King.  The fighting was fierce, and the king of Rohan found himself face to face with the Witch King.  And he fought bravely, but the Witch King defeated him.  But before the Witch King could kill the king, another soldier attacked.  One of Rohan’s men.

Evan was jumping up and down.  Sean’s eyes were big.

Me: The warrior and the Witch King fought.  They swung their swords, slashing and crashing.  (I mimicked sword play.)  Soldiers and orcs stopped to watch.  No other warrior had fought the Witch King this long.  The warrior sliced off the head of the Nazgûl and defeated the Witch King.  The warrior thrusted in under the Witch King’s guard.  As the Witch King laid on the ground, dying, he whispered, “No man born of woman can defeat me.”  The warrior removed his helmet, and it was Eowyn.  She said, “I am no man.”  She killed the Witch King and saved the day because if he hadn’t died, Gondor would not have stood.

I paused.

Me: What do you think?

Evan: The girls must have been so excited that it was Eowyn.

Me: The girls AND boys were excited that Eowyn defeated the Witch King.  She was awesome.  There are lots of awesome stories about girls.

Evan: Like Brave?!

Me: Yup.  When I was a little girl, there weren’t so many stories about awesome girls.  I didn’t like the princess movies.  Even now they make more exciting books about boys than girls.  I just read a writer asking a publisher, a guy who makes books, why there were still more books about boys than girls.  And the publisher said girls are boring.  Can you believe that?

Evan: That’s dumb.

Me: Yup.  That’s why I want to get you books about girls AND boys having exciting adventures.  If you read only about one, you’ll miss all kinds of stories about the other.

Sean: Princess Leia is awesome!  She fights!

Me: Yup.  She’s awesome.

Parenting.  Teaching my boys that girls are just as good as boys.  And training them to be nerds.

Bunnies! Hot Rod Flames!

We don’t have satellite.  But my parents do.  It might be the real reason my boys like going over there so much.  Add to that I release most of the TV control to my dad, and the boys are in a second heaven.  Cartoons!  On Nickelodeon!  So now they have a taste of  non-pre-approved cartoons.  God, Grandma’s and Papi’s house is awesome.

Sometime ago the boys watched Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.  I kinda liked it.  And the boys and I really liked this scene.

Then it was Pinewood Derby time, and Evan had to design and paint his car.

As we discussed the car’s paint job, I said, “You could do hot rod flames.”

Evan: Hot rod flames!

Me: Bunnies!

Evan: No, hot rod flames, Mommy!   Not bunnies!

Me: Bunnies!

Then Evan got it.

Evan: Hot rod flames!

Me: Bunnies!

Evan: Hot rod flames!

Me: Bunnies!

Evan: HOT ROD FLAMES!

Me: Bunnies!

Evan started laughing.

Me: Well, at least the bunnies are on fire.  (pause)  No, we really should do bunnies on fire!

Evan: Mooooommmmmyyyyyyy.  (Rolled eyes)

Me: I’m going to do it to the Sequoia.  Oh, yes.

Evan rolled his eyes.

Dude, I’m so excited that Evan can play these games with me.  Wait until I tell of the time that my college best friend and I quoted Simpson lines from Orange, CA to Las Vegas.  That was at least 4 hours with traffic.  The poor girl who went with us must have wanted to jump out of the car.

Unlock. . . Lock. . . Unlock . . . Lock

Mommy!  Mommy!  Can you get the game now?  Mommy!  Please, Mommy?  Now?  Can you please get the game now?  Can you go out to the car and get the game now, Mommy?  Please?  Mommy!  Mommy?  Mommy?  You said you’d get the game after dinner.  Mommy, are you finished with dinner?  You’re done eating, Mommy.  Can you get the game now?  Mommy?  Mommy!  I want to play the game now.  Please can you go get it?  Mommy.  Now.  Get done talking.  Aren’t you done yet, Mommy?  Please, Mommy.  Get the game.  I want to play the game, Mommy.  You said I could play the game.  Please, Mommy.  Please go get the game, Mommy.  Mommy?  Are you listening?  Are you done, Mommy?  Can you get the game now, Mommy?  Please.  Mommy?

Evan created the sound track to after dinner conversation at my parents’ house.

My mom: You should make him wait and not interrupt you when you’re talking with adults.

Me: Yes, Mother.

Was anyone else listening?  I tuned him out after the first whiny “mommy” came out of his mouth.

Me: Evan, let me finish this story, and then I will talk to you.

It dawned on me that I could see my truck from where I sat.  I bet I could click it unlock.  I clicked it.  It beeped and flashed its lights.  Hmmm.

Me: Evan, you can go get the game.  It’s unlocked.  Next time wait patiently.

Evan: OK, MOMMY!

He ran out of the room, out of the house, and down the walk to the sidewalk.  Just as he reached the door.

My dad: Lock it!

I clicked it.  The truck beeped and flashed its lights.

Evan tried the handle.  He ran back to the house.  When he got halfway to the house, I clicked the truck unlocked.

Evan stopped and ran back to the car.

I clicked it locked.

My dad and I were laughing.  Tears were forming in my eyes.  I was laughing so hard I forgot to unlock it.  Evan ran into the house and into the room.

Evan: Mommy, the car is locked.

Me: Ok.  Ok.  Here.

I clicked it unlocked, and Evan ran outside.  Just as he got to the truck door, I clicked it lock again.  My dad and I burst into more laughter.

Evan turned around to head for the house.  I clicked it unlock as he ran a few steps.  He turned, and I clicked it lock again.  He turned to talk to Sean.  I clicked it unlock.  Evan grabbed the door and pulled it open before I could click it again.  He rummaged around and pulled out the game.  All three boys ran into the house.

My dad and I were doubled over in laughter.

Evan: Thanks, Mommy.  I got it.

The boys ran off to play the Wii.  My dad and I took several minutes to collect ourselves.

Kids can give you such joy.

Marriage Talk and Divorce Talk

As we ate dinner, we were listening to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis song “Same Love.”  I really like the song, and I think the boys should be exposed to good music and good causes.

Evan: Mommy,why do you like this song?

Is this the time to talk about this?  Should he know?  But then he’s already exposed to Ron Paul beating up Obama and Obama is against the military.  Thank you socialization at school and ill-informed parents.

So yes.

Me: Because it’s beautiful.  It celebrates all love and equality for everyone.

Evan: Boys marry girls.  But boys marry boys?  Eww.

Me: Why?

Evan: It’s gross.

Me: Love is not gross.  If it is real, healthy love, it’s beautiful.  Love is God.  If two boys love each other, then they should be able to get married if they want.  Or have a family if they want.

Evan: I don’t know.  I don’t think I want to marry a boy.

Me: You don’t have to.  You can marry whoever you fall in love with as long as it’s real love.  Everyone should be able to.

Evan: I still don’t want to love a boy.

Me: (laughing) Then fall in love with a girl.

Sean: I love everyone in the whole world!

Me: Good job, Sean.  We should love everyone.  Right now, we’re talking about a love that makes people want to marry.  Like Nana and Papi.

Evan: Why didn’t you say you and Daddy?

And we have found a dangerous path.

Me: Because Daddy and I aren’t married any more.

Sean: You should get married then!

Me: We were.  But now we are not.

Evan: Why?

Why?  The question that worries me.  They deserve the Truth.  But when they are ready.  Because it is their story too.  But they are too young to understand the mistakes, the issues, the choices, the stupidity of it all.  The things that are a war on marriage, more damaging than two men or two women getting married.  No one’s marriage destroyed my own.  He and I did it.  While he dealt the fatal blow, I helped tear it down too.  But a 7 year-old, a 5 year-old, and a 2 year-old do not need to know all that.  They do not need a white lie either.  They don’t need to hear the bs excuse of “we fell out of love” or “we are too different of people.”  Honestly.

I took a deep breath.

Me: It’s complicated.  It’s very complex, so you’ll have to wait until you’re older for a full answer.  But basically, we made mistakes.  Some people didn’t want to change.  (Ok, I didn’t say I would give the perfect answer.  Damn.)  But no matter what, your daddy and I love you boys very much.  More than we can say.  You are more important than anything else in this world.  (I looked each of them in the eyes.)  I love you.  You are wonderful boys.

Evan nodded.

Sean: Can we have dessert now?  I ate all my food.

Thin mints!  Chocolate!  That’s what we need!

I needed lots of chocolate.  Because as far as complicated, complex, oh-man-being-a-parent-is-so-hard talks, this didn’t go so badly. 

It’s the first one in a long run of them, isn’t it?

Damn.

Duh, Mom

I was driving, and the boys were in back playing.

Evan: Mommy, why doesn’t this brain have a spinal cord?

Me: I’m assuming it’s because it’s a stress ball, and if a spinal cord is attached it wouldn’t fit in someone’s hand.  A stress ball needs to fit into someone’s hand.

Evan: Then it’s not the whole brain.  (Pause)  Mommy, does it have the cerebellum?

Um, huh.  I tried to bring up a picture of the stress ball in my head.  I think.  I think it . . . does?

Me: Yes.

Evan: No, Mom.  You’re wrong.  It is only the cerebrum.  This stress ball has only has one part of the brain.  (Duh.)

First off, little dude, I took bio-psych and did awesome in it.  I can tell you all kinds of cool things about the brain, especially in relation to attraction, love, and sex.  But you’re too young.  So there.

And second, who is this kid?!

Let me tell you something about a mother’s love

I like that song.  It’s sweet.  Lately there were two separate incidents that I handled well enough that I thought “damn, I’m a good mom.” 

***

Like the other week, we had a cold snap.  It was a hard freeze morning.  I insisted on heavy jackets before we left school in a rush.  We arrived at school on time with a few minutes for Evan to play.  But when he got out of the car, I saw that he forgot something.

Me: Where is your coat?

Evan: I don’t know.  At home?

Ah crap.

I looked at my phone.  Ooo, it warmed up some.  It was 42 degrees and not 38.  But it was still 42 degrees.

Ah crap.

It looked like it was finally warm enough to have assembly outside.

Ah crap.

I looked in the car for a sweatshirt, a sweatshirt jacket, a sweater, any thing.

Ah crap.

I looked at him.  Ah crap.  I pulled off my vintage pea coat jacket. 

Me: Here.  Put this on.

I was wearing a shirt with 3/4 sleeves.  At least it was something.  I grabbed my gloves and headband out of the pockets of the jacket as soon as it was on Evan.  It was bulky, and he struggled to keep his hands out of the sleeves.  I laughed.

I picked up Aidan.  Maybe body warmth would keep me warm.

Me: Come on. 

We trudged through the parking lot and playground, arriving on the basketball courts just in time for assembly.  Then I heard the words I was so looking forward too.

The principal: Good morning, everyone!  (The kids roar back because their mountian cubs.)  We have quite a few announcements before we get to the pledge.

Ah crap.

Evan’s teacher: (wanders over, keeping an eye on her line of students and whispers) Aren’t you cold?

Freezing!  I’m a cold wimp!  It’s why I dropped out of swimming in college!  The idea of swimming outdoors in the winter, even in Southern California, made me want to cry.  I hate the cold!  I hate winter!

I smiled and nodded towards Evan.  She patted my arm and gave me a look of sympathy.

Teacher: You’re such a good mom.  And I’m pretty sure he left his sweatshirt in the classroom yesterday.

Oh, thank you, Mother of God.

I walked Evan and his class to their classroom.  I saw his sweatshirt hanging on the back of his chair.

Me: Ok, give me my jacket back.

Evan smiled.

Evan: Thanks, Mommy!  I looked cool and funny!

Yeah, I know.

***

Not so many days after that, I was wrestling on my bed with Sean and Aidan.  Tickling and pillow fighting and wrestling.  It’s the thing I did with all babysitting charges when I was so much younger.  It was how I won over an ex-boyfriend’s little brother and little cousins.  I’m very careful.

But that day, Sean fell backwards on top of me, and his head got me squarely on the bridge of my nose.  I saw stars and little birds flying around my head.  I gently pushed Sean off me.

Me: Hold on.  Hold on.  Time out.  I need a moment.

Crap.  That hurts.  Sean looked horrified.

I smiled.

Me: It’s ok.  I’m fine.

My eyes were tearing up.  I held my nose.  I felt the sensation of when you breathe in water up your nose, followed by the sensation that snot was about to pour out.  (Oh, come on.  We’ve all sneezed and realized to our horror that we’ve spewed snot into our hand.)  My allergies were kicking in.  Perhaps he knocked something loose.

I got up and ran to the bathroom to get a tissue.  Just as I reached for a tissue, I looked down at my hand, expecting to see something white, green, and gross. 

Um, no.  My hand was covered in blood.

Ah damnit.

I grabbed the tissue and wiped my nose.  Blood was streaming out. 

Ah damnit.

Ok.  Ok.  Not forward any more.  Not backward any more.  Just stand normally.  Yea first aid training!

I switched tissues.  I wiped up my other hand as best as I could.

Sean: Mommy?

Me: I’m coming, Sean.

I switched tissues. 

Ok, how much blood is too much blood?  Funny, the pain and stars have faded.  That’s good. 

I switched tissues and washed my hands.  I looked at my face.  There didn’t seem to be a bruised.  My nose wasn’t squashed flat, not that I expected that.  But it’s hard to shake TV images from your childhood.  My nose seemed straight and as big as it always was.  Maybe I should wipe that blood off before Sean sees.

I grabbed another tissues.

Sean: Mommy?

I turned and looked at him.  He still looked horrified, waiting to be punished.  My heart broke.  Why would he look like he was in huge trou- oh.  That’s right.  He’s been exposed to a jerk.

Me: It’s ok, Seanny.  I got a little hurt.  It was all an accident, and I’ll be fine in just a moment or two.

Sean: (tears in his eyes) I’m really sorry, Mommy.

I gave him a one-handed hug.

Me: I know, baby.  Thank you.  It’s good that you apologized even when you did it something by accident.  I promise I’m not badly hurt.  Let’s just not wrestle any more until I’m better, ok?

So Sean and Aidan decided to bounce around on my bed as I held my nose, wondering when the bleeding should stop.  After ten minutes, I called my dad.

Me: Dad?  If I had a bloody nose, how long before it stops bleeding?

My dad: Well, first you should stop picking it.  And I rightly don’t know.

Me: Ha.  “And the doctor said I wouldn’t get any more nose bleeds if I stopped picking my nose.”  No, Sean clocked me with his head just at the right place.

My dad: Do you think it’s broken?

Me: I assume it would hurt more if it was.

My dad: Then it’ll stop soon.  Call if it doesn’t.

Me: Thanks, Dad.  Love you.

My dad: I love you too.  Bye.

Two minutes later, my phone rang.

My mom: Hi, Fae.  You’re dad just told me.  You need to put in some drops in your nose.

Me: Um, Mom.  I don’t know if that you’ll-

My mom: Hold on.  Your dad is talking to me.  (pause)  Oh.  I didn’t realize there was an altercation.

Me: It was an accident.  Sean and I were wrestling.

My mom: Do you think it’s broken?  Do you want us to come over and look at it?

Me: I think it would hurt more if it was broken.  It feels like a bruise.  Dad didn’t sound to concerned.

My mom: It’s your father.

Oh right, the cop.  Who just wanted to put ice on my brother’s hand when he fell into white-hot coals and turned out he needed to be rushed down the mountain to the nearest emergency room.  Who wanted just to put a butterfly bandage on my brother’s chin but my mom insisted on a medical opinion who insisted on stitches.  Ah, my father, the cop.

I looked in the mirror.  The blood wa stopping.

Me: No, I think I’m fine.

My mom: Ok, well, call if you need anything.

Me: I will.  I love you.

My mom: I love you too.  Bye.

I put down the phone and looked in the mirror again.

Evan: Are you ok, Mommy?

Me: I’m fine.  Sean just gave me a bloody nose.  We should be more careful wrestling.

Evan: I have an idea.  Why don’t you read us my new book?

Me: That sounds awesome.