First Aid

It's back to school for teachers at my school so we have just spent the last couple days in workshops and meetings.  Ugh.  That really takes it out of ya.  I don't know why, because it's not hard, but I was so tired last night I was practically delirious.

However, I did learn something I didn't know before.  We learned some basic first aid and I learned that if a person gets a finger cut off from say, an electric saw while making sets for the fall play, you are NOT supposed to put the finger on ice.  It freezes the delicate capillaries and makes it harder to re-attach the limb. You are supposed to clean it and then put it in plastic and place it in cool water for transport to the hospital. I thought the whole put-it-on-ice thing was pretty standard knowledge and wanted to share (and one-up) my family by telling them what I learned.  Here is how that strange conversation went:

Me:  Do you guys know what to do if someone cuts their finger off?
Kira: Say "gross!"?
Mitch: Why?
Me:  Because I learned about it in our first aid workshop.  So say someone cuts their finger off and you have to provide first aid what do you do?
Mitch:  Stop the bleeding.
Me: Yes, then what?
Kira: Call 911
Me:  Yes, but what about the finger?  What do you do with that?
Kira/Mitch (simultaneously): Put it in milk.  

Me: ...Wha.....?

I just wanted to catch them telling me that the amputated finger should be put on ice and then obnoxiously correct them with my new knowledge.  How could BOTH of them think it was protocol to put a severed limb in MILK of all things?  That is so WEIRD.  What I discovered was that I better take care of myself because if I require first aid I will be in real trouble.  Or I will have to be sure to have lots of fresh milk and hope for the best.

Parenting at the end of August

Since my kids have gone to school I have found being a parent in the month of August to be challenging. The kids have run out of things to do, they are bored, I am sick of them, and we are all getting anxious about school starting again.  A friend of mine said that August is like a month of Sunday nights.  Absolutely.

One year in late August I remember Sam, Kira and the neighbor kid were trying to trap chipmunks under buckets by piling seeds up on the sidewalk and luring them.  They actually managed to trap a few under the bucket but then they were at a loss of how to get them out from under the bucket and instantly domesticate them and make them friendly pets.  If this would have happened in June, I would have told them to stop, and talked to them about being kind to wildlife, and also that it isn't safe to trap wild animals.  They could bite!  A friend of mine came over while this was happening and questioned my lax attitude about their activities.

Friend:  Are they trying to catch chipmunks?!
Me:  Not trying.  They ARE catching chipmunks.
Friend:  Are you not worried about this?
Me:  No.  Why?
Friend: Umm... because it's not very nice and it's not very safe...
Me:  But they are busy.  And they aren't whining.  Or hanging on me.  Or in the house.
Friend:  Aren't you worried about rabies?
Me:  There's shots for that now.

Just a few years ago I was in the living room mercifully alone because Kira was outside doing something.  I kept seeing her run from the driveway across the yard at full speed with her bow and arrow.  Back and forth, back and forth, again and again.  Eventually I got curious and went outside to ask what she was doing.

Me:  What are you doing?
Kira: What do you mean?
Me:  I mean why do you keep running back and forth with your bow and arrow?  What do you mean,      
        "What do I mean" ? (Jesus)
Kira: I'm shooting a wasp nest on the shed.
Me:  ........ but... WHY?
Kira:  (shrug)
Me:  Well, why do you keep running?
Kira:  Because the bees are chasing me!
Me:  .......... Okay.  Carry on!

I was talking to a friend today who has an eight year old and is now in the thick of "August Parenting."  She said her daughter came in the other day and my friend said, "Whatcha been doing?" (translation: go back out and do some more of it)  Her daughter said, "I was down the street talking to Oliver's dad."  

Okay, first of all my friend had no idea who Oliver was, much less his dad, and in June she would have probably been alarmed, but yesterday she was not.  In fact, after a couple hours of trying to think of new activities to do together that didn't involve whining and complaining (from either of them) she said she was tempted to say, "Why don't you go see what Oliver's dad is up to?"

Night Crawler

A few years ago I learned about Kira's "Night Crawls".  She basically gets up in the middle of the night and wanders around in the pitch dark.  She said she's watched us sleep, she's had a snack, she's gone outside etc. etc.  Super creepy, right?  Just a normal part of childhood, right???  She still does it.  Only since she's become a teenager and has technology she texts me about it now while she's doing it.  This was from my parent's house a few years ago when she was visiting.

(Sleep tight, Mom and Dad!)

This morning when I woke up I saw this series of texts:

Kira is still sleeping right now, but as far as I can tell she got up, night crawled a while, trampolined a while, found a dog, discovered the gender of the dog, discovered the dog wasn't trained, pet the dog, and then went back to bed.  

But the dog didn't go home.  The dog slept right underneath my bedroom window and barked at every tiny noise.  I got up at around three in the morning and tried to make the dog go home, but she wouldn't.  She wanted to come in.  I wouldn't let her.  But she weighs about a thousand pounds and if a thousand pound, dumb, dopey dog wants to come in your house at three in the morning, it will.  

It was a long night.  And now Kira won't get up because she is tired from listening to the nightcrawl dog bark under our windows all night.  When do children generally grow out of nightcrawling?