When I was the mother of a toddler, I was always on the look out for potential swallowing hazards. I was very vigilant about making sure that there weren’t little things lying around that Arden could pick up and eat or stick in her ear or her nose. I kept doors shut and cabinets locked so she wouldn’t get into anything dangerous.
As time has gone on and I am now the mother of a soon to be 2nd grader, these measures seem not to be as needed. I mean, the child can walk without falling down (most of the time, she is her mother’s daughter after all – I am prone to fall down on a completely smooth surface, on a perfectly sunny and dry day – so she isn’t always 100% graceful. For that I feel the need to apologize for her future life of bruised knees, twisted ankles and cuts and bruises – but genes don’t lie and there isn’t much I can do other than stock a lot of bandages and have good health insurance); she eats without choking; she doesn’t stick strange objects into the holes in her face – or so one would THINK. I thought this. Until yesterday.
I’ve taken the next couple of weeks off to spend with Arden (read: my child care options fell through and I have a really flexible job so I work when I want/need and thank GOD for that) and get ready for the new school year. We got our classroom assignment yesterday for the 2nd grade and I am so excited for this year! I hate, hate, hate change – but things feel like they are really falling into place for Arden here in the woods, and I’m starting to have some more peace about the whole situation.
So, yesterday we decided would be a good time to go buy all the school supplies, new shoes, new outfits that any well turned out 2nd grader must have. (As a side note, in my last post I talked about the Target back to school commercials that I’ve been trying desperately to keep from A’s eyes – I have failed – she kept asking are we going to the store that says “When I say study – you say HAUL!!”?? Dang you Target, dang you!)
We had a lazy morning, ate some lunch and then headed into Springfield. I spent nearly 2 months worth of my salary on the required supplies (I exaggerate – but my goodness these children are not CHEAP! Another reason God gave my budget obsessed self only one child – if I had multiples I may need post traumatic stress counseling to get through back to school). We swung through Starbucks for some celebratory cake pops and headed home. I made dinner; we all ate together; Terry ran to a meeting – all told between waking up and the trauma I’m about to share, Arden was probably awake for about 10 hours.
About 7 p.m., Arden and I were laying on my bed just talking when she says – “Mommy I need to tell you something.” If you are a mother of a speaking child, if they say “I need to tell you something”, your sense of dread is on high alert. She proceeds to tell me that there has been something stuck up her nose all day. Now, I need to say that A has a thing about her nose – she has always been obsessed with getting “thorns” out of there – aka boogers – so I assumed there was a particularly stubborn thorn stuck in her nose and no amount of picking had rectified the situation. She also is not capable of blowing said nose – again she gets this honest, my dear father never mastered this art in his life. I started to relax a bit until she said that she felt that maybe if she stuck a pencil up there she could “get it out”.
I said I thought that was probably not the best idea, but she was insistent that she was really uncomfortable with what was stuck up there. I tried to explain that if she blew her nose, she could get the thorn out. She then, with tears welling in her eyes, explained that it wasn’t a thorn – it was…wait for it…A COTTON BALL…stuck up her nose. A COTTON BALL!!! What in the world!?! I said, how did a cotton ball get up your nose??
And here is where I began to question the last 7 years of parenting.
A couple of days ago she rediscovered some Santa Claus knee socks that my mom got her last winter. Santa’s hat has little cotton pom poms at the top. Something in my normally rational child’s mind, thought it would be a fantastic idea to rip one of those pom poms off Santa’s hat and STICK IT UP HER NOSE!!! Why? I do not know. She does not know. It is a mystery, but completely not the point because the cotton pom pom is now firmly lodged UP HER NOSE.
I am at a loss at what to do at the point. I dig out some tweezers and a flash light to try to remove the object, but she is having NONE of that impromptu surgery. I try to calmly explain that if I don’t get it out, we are going to have to drive to the hospital and have a doctor get it out because a cotton ball cannot STAY UP YOUR NOSE! I quickly lost my calm as is clear by my over use of caps in this story! Now her tears are a full on flood complete with shaking and screaming. As a last ditch effort to solve the problem at home rather than employing the help of a licensed medical professional, I suggest trying to blow her nose really hard. Remember the child can’t blow her nose, so I have no faith this is going to work. But I get a Kleenex, hold it over her nose, plug one side and tell her to blow with all her might.
Jesus loves me. This I know.
Two blows got the cotton ball out of her nose. I didn’t take a picture. I still can’t believe I typed the words “got the cotton ball out of her nose”. But this is a non-nose encased picture of what came flying out of her nostril…
Once the crisis had passed, I hazard to ask what on earth had made her put this object in her nose and when had this actually happened? She couldn’t answer the first question, but the second answer – before breakfast. BEFORE BREAKFAST!!!! That thing had been up there for over 10 HOURS!!!
I got nothing – I mean really – have you ever?
Give me strength!
See ya soon!