This morning I was yet again reminded how I'm NOT equipped to handle bloody traumas.
I've never debated the fact, honestly. One drop of blood and I'm tucking my head between my knees. Trauma of any sort has that effect, actually. But blood and guts do the trick the quickest.
What happened, you ask?
Miss Nora was playing in the livingroom this morning while I was in the kitchen. I heard her take a tumble and start fussing. I put my pen down, got up, and walked in to soothe her. It didn't take but a millisecond for me to see that Momma's kisses might not be all that was required to make those boo boos go away.
Nora's mouth was bleeding profusely.
I brought her into the kitchen, gave her a popsicle and grabbed a wad of paper towels. I dabbed at her lip gingerly. I could easily tell this wasn't a little scratch.
So I set my girl down (who, by the way, had already stopped crying). I picked up the phone and called Gordon, my Knight in Shining Armor. I also tore off my sweatshirt and threw my head between my knees. I practically begged him to come home. I was certain Nora would need stitches and KNEW I would not be able to drive.
::Fast forward::
All is well. The bleeding stopped by the time Gordon and I hung up on the phone. I was calming down slowly but surely. I called the pediatrician and was relieved to hear that stitches were not necessary. In less than the time it took to eat three popsicles, Eleanor happily announced that her 'boo boo is all gone!'
She's not a miracle healer, but she's already back to behaving like a normal toddler.