Callapidder Days

When I kissed L. (age: 1) on the head tonight and put him in his crib, he had a big purplish lump on the side of his little noggin.

Again.

Honestly, this kid bangs into things enough times in one week to make me jumpy. Every time I hear a “thump” coming from the other room, I rush to see if L. has, once again, had an unfortunate encounter with a piece of furniture, the hardwood floors, a pointy toy, or a wall. I look him over quickly to see if there are any new goose eggs, abrasions, scrapes, cuts, bruises, splinters, etc.

Within just the last seven days, I can think of three specific wound-causing incidents.

1. Last Friday, he had swollen eyelids and a horribly bloodshot eye. At first, I was thinking pinkeye, but that was ruled out. The eye issue was apparently the result of a scrape or scratch to the eye, one that I did not witness.

2. Sunday, in the church nursery, he went barreling across the room, tripped over another toddler, and landed forehead-first on the dial of the play-kitchen’s stove. My fellow nursery worker looked on in horror as a large, purplish-red bubble appeared on his temple. A cross between a nasty brush-burn and highly-elevated goose egg, the 1.5-inch injury looked truly horrific on his little head. (Had I been thinking “Blog fodder!” I would have taken a picture, but alas, I did not.)

3. Then today, just as I was thinking that the contusion had finally cleared up, he ran full speed into the kitchen table, and his head happens to be perfectly level with the edge. Nice. Another yucky swelled-up purple mark on the side of his head.

You’d think that, since I have another son, I’d be used to this. But C. was always a bit calmer, and a bit more careful around heavy, immovable objects. The first time I worried about a head injury with him, he was four years old, sliding around the floor in socks, when his feet flew out from under him and he landed on his head. (Okay, I just remembered: there was also that time when he was six months old and he fell off the couch because I was not paying attention. Bad Mommy!)

With L., I’m already well-acquainted with the signs of concussions. Did he cry as soon as he hit his head? Any vomiting? Was he easily awakened from his nap? Are there signs of dizziness or confusion? None of the answers to these questions have proven worrisome, but I have them on call in my brain, just in case.

I don’t really think that L. is a daredevil. He just doesn’t have the time to think about where or how he’s running. He is constantly on the move, at very high speeds, going from one activity to the next. And because we do not live in a Marshmallow Peep house with pillows for furniture, there are bound to be bumps and bruises.

Though I recite the “Concussion Questions” to myself and worry a little about these injuries, I know that there are going to be other bumps and bruises that come along in L.’s life — ones that affect the heart more than the head. C., at age 9, has experienced some of these, and as a mom, I’ve found it’s much harder to heal this kind. A kiss on the head or a cartoon-character band-aid doesn’t quite cut it. The heart bruises require prayer, long conversations, wisdom, patience, compassion, more wisdom, and time…sometimes lots of time. A bump on the head clears up within a few days. A bump to the heart can take much longer.

I’d love to protect my kids from all the bumps and bruises out there. But just as I haven’t changed all our furniture to the completely overstuffed kind and covered my walls with mattresses, I can’t (and shouldn’t) remove every bit of emotional pain from their lives, either. What I can do is pray for them, be here for them, help them work through the pain, and tuck them in at night with the reassurance that they are deeply loved and cared for. A kiss on the head isn’t a bad idea, either.