6 Jul 2011
Yesterday I was tested as a mother.
This morning, as I was preparing to listen to two lovely people on the radio. I was also in the bathroom, before nine, trying to unblock the sink. While I was trying to do this, my toddler was opening cupboards. He opened the cupboard which contains, among other things, a plastic box full of small ramekins and pyrex dishes. These are great things to bang together, they make fantastic noise. Until they break. And I heard that noise and bolted to the kitchen. I was too late. Toddler was griping the broken piece of glass in his fist. I was there two seconds too late. He gripped and it cut into his thumb.Blood started pouring from his hand. Tears. Wails. Internal screaming from mama. FUCK. The only thing to hand was a tea towel. I wrapped it round his hand and tried to grab the medicine and first aid box. Hard to do one handed. Hard to reach and carry with toddler under one arm while holding his hand tightly. FUCK.
I wrestled with child and box. The blood still poured. I plonked them both on the dining table. I tried to unwrap bandaids one handed. The cut was too big for a bandaid, and the thumb too tiny. I shrieked at him (sorry bubba) to be still. Fat hot tears rolled down his cheeks. I bundled him into his uggs, grabbed a blanket, threw on a jacket and strapped him into the stroller.
We raced down to the shops and into the GP. I explained. Luckily by now, the blood wasn’t still pouring out, it was being held in by my attempt at a dressing. Toddler was calm. He watched the cars out the window. After we got in, I realised the treatment room was being painted. There was no nurse to be had, the place was under renovation. My GP had to find the dressings from their temporary homes. It was an ordeal. Toddler was still calm. It was a big cut but no stitches. Then came the slightly hilarious cartoon thumb bandage. Really it was to stop him pulling it off. It was huge, compared to his little tiny thumb. He will be fine. Me? It took me until the whole of the next day to recover. Motherhood, it’s a trial.