Frank-Ian-stein

I was broom sweeping around the fireplace yesterday morning at about 11:15 with Ian running around the living room and dining room, when I heard him crash into something and fall down. Since this happens about 500 times a day (he is a "toddler," after all, people!), I kept on sweeping and casually asked, "Ian, you ok?" Then the screaming ensued. I turned around to see my little boy running towards me with blood flowing down his face and smeared all over it by his hand. Blood was dripping all over his clothes and onto the floor. Quite a shocking sight for a mom. I guess he wasn't quite ok.

So after getting him cleaned up and attempting to put some ice on the goose egg that was rapidly forming on his noggin -- a feat which he refused to let me accomplish with all his might -- I made us a quick lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and fruit, and made the (blessedly short) trek to the local immediate care clinic. Thankfully, the bleeding from the cavernous gash on his forehead was reduced to a trickle that was easily wiped up every 5 minutes or so with a damp paper towel.

There, Ian experienced the application of his first stitches: four of them to be exact. We were there for most of the afternoon and finally left around 3:00 (after some precautionary x-rays and a lot of waiting), after which Eric and I took him to McDonald's for some much-deserved ice cream.

All in all, I was proud of his behavior throughout the day. Here are some fun highlights:

* While we were still at home before leaving, I tried to find out what he had hurt himself on. I asked, "Where did you bump your head, Ian?" He looked a little confused, pointed at his forehead, and said, "Right there, Mommy."

* A minute or two before the doctor came in to stitch him up, he commented to me, "Fun day, Mommy! Thank you fun day!" He had already received a Bob the Builder sticker and gotten to play with a stethoscope, so he thought he was in heaven. All I could say was, "I'm glad you're having fun!" He had no idea what was coming....

* Mere moments after screaming and thrashing around so badly that it took three of us to hold him down (me and 2 very patient nurses) while the doctor stitched him up, Ian literally hopped off the table and said in a very happy voice, "All done! Play now?"

* The doctor gave him a neon orange bandaid for his stitches, which Ian was very proud of. Every person at the clinic who asked him what he did after that got a description of his "cool or'nge ban-naid."

Here's a picture of Ian with his two face scars in front of the Christmas tree this morning -- the other cut on his chin was from falling headlong into his bathroom step stool a few days ago. As you can see, he's quite proud of himself!