I’m cross-posting this over at Daddy Runs a Lot.
It had been a very, very long day. For the most part, the kids had been good – they woke up in a foreign house (we spent Saturday night in northern Virginia with friends), spent several hours in the car, got fun & sun in Grandy’s pool1, and we were hitting the “home stretch” for bedtime.
I’m not a stickler for routine. I have some friends who have the bedtime process working like a well-oiled machine, and I envy these friends . . . except when something goes astray. When the routine is broken, the meltdowns are truly epic. And, I’m pretty sure that these kids are being set up to be drug addicts. But, I digress. I don’t have a bedtime routine. Sometime between 7 & 8, it’s time to gauge the situation. If one kid is over-tired and throwing a fit, I’ll place said kid in a death grip and
fall asleep cuddle until the kid’s fight to stay awake dies. If the kid is truly off the walls, I’ll throw said kid in a stroller and walk around the block. But, for the most part, I’ll simply let the kids play until they’re showing signs of imminent sleep.
When both Duffy & I are in the room, and sleep appears imminent, both kids have the same pattern. They’ll start with one of us, and we’ll feed them milk, but when they realize that they’re falling asleep, suddenly they need the other parent to hold them. Not uncommonly in this exchange, they’ll find a second wind. Last night was no different.
Duffy had Leila, and I had CJ, and things were going pretty good. I thought CJ was about asleep when Duffy took out her earrings because Leila was tugging on them. I did something stupid & CJ awoke with a bolt. He walked over to Duffy because, obviously, I was using some sort of black magic to nearly have him asleep, and he wanted none of it.
Duffy now had both babies, Leila nearly asleep, when CJ saw something on the floor that had to be investigated. So, Duffy put him down, but he then saw the earrings sitting on the snack table.
He grabbed one.
As toddlers are wont to do, he put it in his mouth.
I sprang into action.
I saw the earring in his mouth, and then put my finger into his mouth to sweep it out.
He bit my finger.
I put my finger back in his mouth, and the earring was not there.
He bit my finger again.
There was but a split second that he could have spit the earring out, and I still hold hope that he did just that, but I think it’s safe to say that a bead, dangling on 14k wire is in a toddler’s digestive system.
This was not something I was used to. And I had no idea what to do. I have medical professionals that I’m “close to” via Twitter. My mother is a retired operating room nurse. My father-in-law (he of the pool) is a physician’s assistant. We made the decision to call my father-in-law, and he basically told us that, if he really swallowed it, there isn’t much to do but wait for it to pass.
Yeah, through the other end.
An emergency room visit would only yield an x-ray, to confirm what we already knew. For now, we just needed to wait.
Duffy hung up the phone after talking to her dad, and the two of us scoured the room, trying to figure out if, maybe, he did spit things. It’s safe to say we were freaking out, though not nearly as badly as we might. It was a bad situation, but it wasn’t horrible.
In the middle of all of this, Leila, who had been sitting in the middle of the commotion, playing with a set of blocks, decides to up & stand on her own two feet. The commotion stops as Duffy & I stare, slack-jawed, at our daughter.
Because she must be the center of attention, she started babbling at a volume that only she can reach. After her little nonsensical monologue, she sat back down and resumed the block playing.
You know that scene in Dead Poets Society where they’re reading Whitman? “I sound my barbaric yawp”? Well, this certainly felt like Leila sounding her barbaric yawp.
In the aftermath, diaper changing ought to be fun today. I’m very hopeful that things will pass without incident, though I fear that the earring will never be worn again. And, I think we’re nearing the “two toddler” stage, despite very clear instructions to my little girl that she’s done enough growing up already.
1 Duffy’s father’s name is Randall. Grandfather + Randy = Grandy