I kind of just had a bad feeling this afternoon as I left our house with all the kids. Not really bad like something bad was going to happen... just the feeling that I really wouldn't be surprised if things didn't go as I planned.
And it was a little crazy- me on a mountain bike, towing a trailer with M (3) and a screaming G (7 mo). The other four kids were on bikes, too, and we were headed through our neighborhood to take M for stitches at the pediatric office (where I only go for emergencies because one particular doctor there does not particularly like my particular way of looking at things like nursing and vaccines and nutrition).
M needed stitches because, during a rather rough game of "Runner from Ravenshead," he was pushed into a closet where he fell upon the pointed edge of a doll cradle. Typical for our family, he came crying into the kitchen while The Lawyer and I were making lunch and we said we were sorry for him, that's too bad, etc., and sent him away. Shortly after that, a sibling removed his hat and -gasp!- there was a gaping, bleeding wound.
So, we ate lunch (of course) and put M down to rest (necessary) and planned to meet the dr. at 5 p.m. (And the good Lawyer also cleaned the wound, of course.) I'm merely here for sympathy. It makes me queasy to look at bloody open spaces.
Then we took the bike trip, G crying most all the time, but M content with his blanket in the trailer. The Lawyer finished his law professing (he teaches online) and met us at the office. M took his staple in the head beautifully and was surprised that there are such things as green freeze pops; the good doctor gave him his first.
We loaded up to go home and I asked The Lawyer to give back my cell phone (which he held for me in the office as I had no pockets, no bag, and one fussy baby). "Why?" he asked. "You planning to make some calls while you bike?"
"Well, no." I said. "But just in case we need you or have an accident or get lost or a bike breaks down."
And, lo and behold, that's just what happened.
The Lawyer left with G and the kids and I biked back to the trail home. They were hot and sweaty from playing and biking in the church parking lot while M had his suture. But they were also feeling competitive and wanting to get home as quickly as possible. About two minutes after we left the doctor's office, we were picking up speed on a big downhill beside the Woodlake pool and picnic pavilion. Just then T (5) screamed that his chain came off (i.e. he had no brakes!). I think I shouted "stop!" (which, obviously made no sense) The two big boys, who were in the lead, did stop and turned to see what was the matter. . . just as T careened into O's back bike tire, flipping his own bike as he flew over the handlebars and landed in a sad little heap on the asphalt.
I think the entire picnic at the pavilion watched.
And the Lord is merciful to us and had people at the picnic who were quick to help. I sent O back to the doctor's office immediately to ask her to wait for us to bring T. Before I even saw the damage, I knew we would need her help. The kind party people came running with napkins and water and even brought down a truck to pick up all the rest of us and we left our bikes and went back to the pediatrician. (And the party people even brought our bikes to the office, too!)
And so, our T had his first stitches. Four of them in his chin. And a big bump on his head and scrapes on his arm and belly. Praise the Lord it wasn't worse (we are thankful for helmets again!).
The Lawyer can sum up the afternoon more succinctly: 1 staple in M's head. 4 stitches in T's chin. Separate incidents. Same doctor. About 30 minutes apart.