No parent wants to get that phone call about their child getting hurt. This afternoon I rushed out of the office when the afterschool daycare director called to say Isaiah fell on the school bus and that he had a cracked tooth.
I sprint from the car to the building a little nervous about what he’ll look like. I find him sitting inside the front office holding ice on his swollen lip. He didn’t seem to be in any pain at all. He lifted up his lip to show me how it looked. A small chunk of his gums was missing and one of his baby teeth in the front was now loose. Luckily, the adult tooth growing in beside it seemed fine. No cracked tooth just banged up gums, a loose tooth and a swollen lip.
To be on the safe side I took him by the doctor’s office. As always it was a tremendous amount of fun bringing him into a place that requires waiting and sitting quietly 🙂
The nurse brought him back to check the basics. Walking over to the scale he dramatically hangs his head. As he climbs up to be weighed…
Isaiah: “I hate these things. Last time I was here I had to go on a diet.”
This is a ridiculous comment because he is SUPER skinny. He’s only 55 lbs and tall for his age. His nickname has been Captain Ribcage for quite some time now. I think he was talking about a time he came in with a fever. He was carrying on and on with the nurse about chicken noodle soup.
He lets her check his oxygen level and temperature without too much trouble.
Isaiah: “Do I have a fever?”
Nurse: “No. You’re fine.”
Isaiah: “YEEESSSSS! So…you don’t have to put that thing on my arm that pumps up and squeezes me, do you?”
Nurse: “No. I don’t think that’s necessary today. Isaiah, did you fall coming out of the bus?”
Isaiah: “No! I hit my face on the steps. If I was coming out of the bus I would have hit my face on the COONNNCCCREEEEETTTTTEEE!”
Me: “OMG! Isaiah! Just answer her questions politely. What is your problem?!?!?!”
…… she drops us off in the room to wait for the doctor.
Isaiah flops around on the tissue paper covered bed for a while. My attempts to get him to drop his energy level before the doctor came in were unsuccessful.
The doctor was awesome. Very patient and didn’t seem annoyed by Isaiah’s hyperactive behavior. She tells us that he’s fine. No need to be worried about anything. She recommended a soft chew diet for a few days so his baby tooth could chill out and potentially stay in there a little longer until his big tooth grows in some more.
Isaiah: “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! I don’t want to be on a diet! I hate diets!”
Me: “Isaiah! It’s not a big deal. You just can’t have super hard or really chewy food.”
Isaiah: “UHHHH!!! I don’t want to be on a diet. (hangs head dramatically again) Fine! Can I have chicken noodle soup then?”
Me: “Sure. I think I have some at the house.”
He seemed pleased with that so we moved on. Before leaving the doctor said the nurse would come back with some paperwork. As soon as the door closed he jumped off the bed and hopped on the doctor’s rolling stool. He glides over to the sink area with all the cabinets and drawers. He touches 955,000 things. I finally convince him to get off the chair. He loudly plops himself down on the tissue bed. It is torn in multiple places at this point.
Finally the nurse arrives and we are able to go home.
A few hours later… (Isaiah is in the bathtub and I’m in the kitchen cooking dinner)
Me: “WHAT ISAIAH?!?!?!”
Isaiah: “ARE TOENAILS ON MY NEW DIET?”
Isaiah: “NO! THE DOCTOR SAID SOFT CHEW DIET. TOENAILS ARE HARD!”
Stopping for a moment I replay that last bit of dialogue in my head. Did I seriously just explain why toenails are not part of a diet?
Dinner is done. Both kids are washed. I’m very much done for today.
Until next time…