See my boy's finger? After sustaining a sliver while playing outside, he underwent minor surgery to remove the sliver. Someone must have mistakenly told my son that his finger was being amputated because I'm certain that you could hear his screams all the way to Regina, so traumatized was he.
He came in the house, tears running down his face, telling me about his finger. I was trying to get a glimpse and finding it very difficult to do so because he would not sit still. Finally able to see the sliver, I told him I had to remove it and he promptly went into weeping and travail.
I don't think I've ever had such a hard time comforting him and fighting laughter at the same time, truly. Sitting on my lap trying to prepare him for his surgery, he asked me:
"Mom, (sniff, sniff), do ssssticks (more sniffing) get slivers, too?"
Honestly, I hid my face behind his head and struggled with all of my might not to laugh out loud. He also adamantly proclaimed:
"There should be no sticks in our yard! We need to get them out of our yard and put them in everybody else's yard!"
His dad, who was working on the deck, came in to see what the fuss was all about. It was decided that both of us would undertake this serious operation, so I assisted by snuggling my son and holding his finger still while dad did the dirty work. While he was trying to get out the sliver, Seth again started to wail and said to his dad:
"Pppplease, dad, (sniff, sniff), go gently!"
I caught a glimpse of daddy's face - he was trying to keep it together like me - and as a result I could barely make it through without cutting up myself.
My sweet Hannah, ever compassionate, stood by my side, all the while asking if she could do something to help. I realized that I was out of bandaids (adding to the trauma), so she went into her bedroom to make Seth a bandaid. The picture you see above is my lovely girl's invention of cut up kleenex, a sticker on top - it must look real you know - wrapped around his finger with scotch tape.
It was a great time, needless to say.
I said that I was going to get pictures of my girl's room some time and post them. This is the result of living the life of a packrat.
See the two beloved Tic Tac containers amidst all of her treasures? She did manage to get rid of some of them, however. I really should take random photos of her room and make up my own I Spy series. Get rich quick, you know.
THE corner. And the end is in sight. That trip to grandmas is coming up very soon because I am getting company at the end of May and they are using HER ROOM. I will try to remember to take pictures AFTER mommy is through with it.
To be fair, she is not a slob anywhere else in the house. She is very helpful and likes things orderly. But, because she cannot get rid of things, she continuously gets herself in a bind. She'll go several days trying her hardest to put her beloved treasures back, and then eventually just gives up. This is the end result. It's not like this every day, but this is pretty much the worst it ever gets.
Today, my niece Rachel took the kids' annual pictures. Here is a sneak peak of the one picture she emailed to me.