D has to work late 3 nights this week and next, leaving all of the driving to me. Last Thursday went something like this:
4:55pm Load everyone into car and take girls to piano lessons.
5:10pm Pick up D at soccer scrimmage.
5:15pm Pick up pizzas for dinner.
5:25pm Eat pizza.
5:45pm Take L to soccer practice, picking up teammate on the way.
6:10pm Pick up girls from piano lessons.
6: 40pm Change shirt and go to bathroom as preparation for attending middle school open house. When someone calls my name while in the bathroom, yell, "I'm in the bathroom!" and think with annoyance that I can't have literally one minute of peace.
6:40 and 30 seconds: Hear bloodcurdling shrieks emanating from the other room. Try not to hurt myself scrambling to pull up shorts and race out of bathroom. Run by 12 year old D who is on the computer and apparently oblivious to whatever emergency has just occurred--he hasn't even looked up.
When I arrived in the kitchen/family room area, 1 year old K was crying, picked him up and realized he wasn't the one hurt, just scared by all the screaming. Hand him to 10 year old J who is not screaming, but talking really fast in a voice an octave higher than normal, telling me what happend.
Go around kitchen island and couch and see 7 year old I screaming her head off, as though she was being murdered, and flapping her arms really hard. Next to her is 4 year old T, dripping blood off of her hands, her shirt front half soaked. I escort her to bathroom to wash her off and assess damage. I runs from the room at this point. While washing her hands I realize that they are not injured, and see blood pouring from her right temple, where there is a 1.5 inch laceration, maybe 2mm wide and deep. After a few minutes of pressure, the bleeding subsides and I am pretty sure that it needs stitches, though not 100% positive, I wish D was here, he would know for sure, and I call him but he doesn't answer--is teaching an evening class.
7:00pm--I inform T and her siblings that she needs to have a doctor look at her injury (carefully not mentioning the word hospital or emergency room so as not to alarm the patient). Amazingly, she agrees without protest, but does refuse to change her shirt. We drive 15 minutes to a nearby community hospital, where there is no wait, and she is stitched up, using that amazing numbing gel instead of the painful numbing shot. Somehow this all takes almost 2 hours, including drive time, even though they are not busy--hospital time is different from real time I have discovered previously, and this experience only corroborates that theory. Meanwhile I attempt to call D every 15 minutes or so, and do call home every 15 minutes or so in an attempt to movitate my other children to finish homework, do chores and get ready for bed.
9:00pm--we arrive home. T proudly shows off her hospital bracelet and the stuffed animal she received. The other kids are mostly ready for bed.
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