Friday, July 3, 2009
After raising 8 kids, 7 of which are boys, and many other assorted children I have took charge over all these years I should be used to injuries, but I am not. Kids play, they take chances, they fall down, go boom.
Yesterday Jeremy needed to go shopping so I took the three guys to the park. First I had to scare off all the big kids off the swings. A couple of the girls road my bus in the past and the boys they were hanging with are much older and much more troubled. These two girls are good so far, but with too many days of hanging out with this group I can't say what will happen. An older couple sorta looked freaked when they saw this group, but not me. I told them I knew they're leader (who also road my bus) named Rose and I was in. They got off the swings and let the little kids play.
Near the time to go home Jacob started chasing Dakota and of course Dakota fell right on his big old head. He got a scratched nose, head and a wee little dot of blood on the tip of his nose. We looked at the injuries in a nice ladies car mirror, decided they were awful and then trudged the 5 blocks home. Dakota really wasn't bleeding just lots of tears and snot. Jacob was too worried about his loose tooth to care and well Dayton, he's just Dayton lost in his nearly 3 year old world, I only had to tell him once to stop walking through people's flower beds. After carrying crying Dakota home and assuring him his head would fine we made it back just in time for their daddy. He was fine, but not happy they were chasing each other....he should remember he was once the oldest of 5 boys and give them a break.
All night I had visions of the kid having a concussion, but a call this morning assured me the lad was fine. Off being the daredevil he was born to be!