Yesterday Mike and my Dad went to look at and buy a new (to us) van. When Mike got home the kids threw on shoes and ran out to look at it. After we came back in, Xavier took off his cowboy boots (didn't have on socks) and then (I think) went to push the front door shut with his foot. Apparently the very edge of the metal kick plate had bent up a little and in a fluke accident he caught the crease of his baby toe on that metal and sliced it deep.
At first I did the whole mom "you're okay, buddy" thing, but then as the blood kept dripping I hollered outside to Mike for a better assessment. After a call to our favorite nurse practitioner (whom we are so thankful for) to get her opinion, we decided we'd better get some stitches. Grandma Num came to the rescue for the other 3 kids and Mike and I headed down to urgent care with Xavier. Before we left, she joked with Xabe that he's going to be competing with Papa Curtis in the "most stitches" competition.
Xavier is the "healthy" kid - rarely sick, never had any procedures, etc. He was very unsure how to handle all of this so I told him I usually choose to not watch what the doctors are doing. He decided this was an excellent idea and folded down his hat so he couldn't see.
Truly, as per normal, the numbing shots were the worst part, and then he couldn't feel anything as they put in 4 sutures.
These ladies did a great job with Xavier and he was a pretty good patient. A few tears, a lot of fear, but we handled it.
Daddy checked this home repair off his list first thing this morning. Funny how you don't even notice something like this needs fixed until after the fact.
We're thankful (again) that we aren't parenting all alone - so grateful to the village that stands beside us.
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