Prolifically Raw: TICK TOCK

Thursday, February 24, 2005

TICK TOCK

Everything was timed out so the kids would be fed, I would have a shower and all of us could bike to school. They were in the kitchen, with bowls of cereal, toast, juice, I even had the milk at the ready for Jo who insisted on pouring out of her very own from a pink sparkle mini-dispenser.

I was in the shower, washing my hair and imagining myself waltzing into the Apple Room on time. I'd visit with the other parents, play a game with Spencer, draw with Jo, it would be great! Then Josephine came into the bathroom.

"I want more cereal, Mom," she said.

"Okay, I'll be one minute," I said.

"NO! I'LL DO IT!"

In a flash, she was running out of the room and right into the door! I heard a sickening thud against that door (her head) and another thud on the floor (her body).

She didn�t have to start crying before I was out of the shower, grabbing as many towels as possible for myself and lifting her on my lap. While I lifted her, she sucked in enough air for the really big cry. It was that inhale, inhale, inhale...and SCREAM!

Spencer showed up in the doorway with his spoon still in his hand. He must have been mid-bite.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" he yelled.

"JO RAN INTO THE DOOR," I yelled.

"OH, MAN," Spencer yelled, "THAT'S GOTTA HURT."

"CAN YOU FIND HER DOG, PLEASE?" I yelled.

"WHAT?" he yelled.

"HER DOG?" I yelled, "PLEASE FIND THE DOG."

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO YELL," he yelled.

Josephine calmed a little and I checked her over. What she had was a nasty bump on the forehead and a cut finger. I told her we'd need a Band-Aid for the finger, which was a very bad idea. She was crying again and screaming,�DON'T TOUCH IT, DON'T TOUCH IT.�

In that moment, there was a time induced panic twisting in my gut saying, "we're going to be late, we're going to be late", which is just ridiculous. My kid was hurt, who cared about time?

Spencer re-appeared in the bathroom with his arms full of every stuffed animal she owned.

"HERE," he yelled.
�DON�T GET THEM WET,� Jo screamed. "DON'T GET THEM WET."
"PLEASE TAKE THOSE BACK TO HER ROOM," I yelled. "I JUST NEED THE DOG."

Spencer disappeared with all the animals and came back, throwing her well worn stuffed dog at us like a weapon. He stomped off, loud enough to be heard over Jo's crying. He put on his coat and backpack, yelling that he couldn't take it any more.

"I'LL BE OUTSIDE," he yelled.

Jo let up on the crying for a minute, took one look at her wounded finger and was back at the screaming.

"MY FINGER, MY FINGER."

There would be no peace if I didn't get that wound covered up, so I decided to move swiftly and with confidence. My towels were falling off by this time, but I didn't care. If the neighbors saw me naked, they saw me naked. I picked Jo up and took her the kitchen counter, which is the best place to manuver an unwilling child into things like shoes, a coat or a Band-Aid. I held her hand while she screamed and got the Band-Aid (with pain killing antiseptic ointment) over her wound. Then I got out the chewable Motrin (of course, I had to be out of the liquid kind), told her it was a sweet tart and popped it into her mouth. While she was occupied with her treat, I took her back to her room, surrounded her with the posse of stuffed animals and waited. She went to sucking her fingers and it was all over. She was quiet and seemingly okay. Yes, her eyes were so swollen from crying that she looked like a prize fighter and we were hopelessly late, but she was going to be okay.

I stayed with her until she kicked at me and said, "go away!"

What followed was a quick hair rinse, a quicker hair dry and a fast jog upstairs to get myself dressed. Ten minutes later, I came down and there was the impossible sound of Josephine's laughter.

In her bedroom, Spencer was lying on the floor, letting her bomb him with stuffed animals. With each hit, he made a sound, like he was taking a serious body blow and then he�d toss them all back up on the bed so she could do it again.

I leaned against the door jam and watched my kids play.

Spencer made his sound effects with the landing of each stuffed critter, �ahhhh,� and, �ohhhh,� and Jo giggled in the way she only laughes for Spencer. She said, "let's do it again," and they did that same game over and over.

Yes, we were late for school. 1/2 hour late, it turned out, but I didn't care. It was worth every minute!

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