B, G and J Day: Christmas Edition

I have been alerted by Sister #2 that my post for Wednesday didn't actually post. I'm mystified. Operator error, no doubt. But what error, exactly?

Annoying, friends. Because it was a really great post that I don't have another copy of. Now I'm left to reconstruct it. But if T. E. Lawrence can re-write his 500 page memoir from scratch after the original was lost a train station, then I can re-write this one post. Because that's the kind of serious blogger I am.


B:

B's wife got him a terrific Christmas present:

A Nerf N-Strike Rapid Fire AS-20 Dart Blaster that Shoots 20 Darts with Automatic Fire

Gemma and Josh already had nerf guns. They were the great enticement for Joshua to commit to using the toilet.

(e.g. "Josh, if you get 10 X's in a row on your poop chart, you get your grand prize!" That 10th poop happened while at church, and as soon as his pants were pulled up, he announced--to anyone he met--"I pooped, so I get a gun!")

Gemma got a gun, too, because our policy is that you cannot shoot at someone who is not armed. But in the weeks between The 10th Poop and Christmas, the war was really between Josh and Bryan, with Bryan saying often, as he loaded up Gemma's 6-shooter, "Joshua, go get your gun!"

This Christmas morning, Bryan was grinning as he loaded up his 20-shooter. "Joshua, go get your gun!"

Well. Gemma got hers, too. And I got mine. Oh yes, Mommy gave Mommy a present this year: my own 6-shooter. We had a family gun battle on Christmas morning.

G:

A Christmas morning that started a lot later than yours, I am guessing. Because, I guess again, you did not spend the wee hours of your Christmas morning in the ER and/or scrubbing blood out of your carpet.

What's this?

Gemma rolled out of bed at 12:30 AM, climbed back in, and then noticed through her stupor that there was blood on her pillow.

She screamed that panic scream, which woke me, and then raced to our room to tell me she had a bloody nose.

As you would have, I leaped out of bed to rush her to the bathroom. Maybe you'd have done it out of parental concern. I did it out of blood-on-the-rug concern and found that it was not a nose bleed. Instead, there was a gash across her chin, below her lip, and it was gushing.

While Bryan got dressed for the trip to the ER, I explained to her why she had to go, and what would happen there. Her eyes were wide, forehead creased--she was all dread. A dread I knew well and I figured that 6 years old was not to young to know: There are somethings we don't want to do, but that we just have to do. Things that aren't like trying a new food we think we will hate and then are surprised by how much we like it. But things we think are going to suck and then, yes, they do indeed suck.

I think her ER experience did suck. Bryan reported that as soon as the nurse said, "We're all done here," Gemma hopped off the bed and started putting on her shoes, wasting no time to high-tail it out.

But I don't think it sucked as much as she'd dreaded it would. They used a numbing agent, so the 6 sutures were tolerable. And they have her a little stuffed bear, her 'Hospital Teddy,' which she took to heart.

From Bryan's point of view, it was a great visit because they got in right away and out soon after.

We examined her bed and still don't understand what she could have hit her chin on. But we've put up a sleeping gate, which she'll probably want to use through high school, perhaps even bring to college with her. . .

At 4 AM that night, everyone was home and back in bed, Gemma in ours. I asked her, "When you fell out of bed, did you think, 'My chin hurts a little'?" It was amazing to me that she had thought it was just a bloody nose.

She said, "No, Mommy. When I fell out and then got back into bed, my chin felt just like every other person's chin that was not wounded and bleeding like mine."

J:

Joshua slept well that night. But he was very concerned to see his sister's bandaged chin, and to hear about a trip to the hospital. He even offered his doggers to her for comfort.

Then, later, he shot her full of nerf darts.