Last night started like any other. I picked up Jamie, went home, took the dogs out.
When I came back in there was Jamie...sitting in a pool of water, flinging the dogs bowl side to side.
He was grinning from ear to ear.
I was not.
We've been working on this whole water bowl issue for a week or so now.
It's become his new favorite toy. Seriously. The minute you set him down in the kitchen he makes a bee line for it, so I can't say I was really surprised by what he'd done. I laughed. Grabbed the camera, took some pictures (cause that's what every good mom does right? photograph the evidence) then proceeded to clean everything up.
The hubs come home. He feeds the dogs, I start dinner. We chat...
I hear Kasey growl and bark, assuming at Moose who's trying to steal his food.
Turn around and see Jamie, on his back, screaming.
My first thought is he got too close, the dog barked and he got scared.
Then I see a cut on his face. And another by his eye.
He's screaming. I'm hysterical. The husband is putting the dogs away.
Neither of us saw what happened, but at this point it's obvious he's been bit.
Once we're calm I realize the one on his cheek is pretty bad.
We pack everyone up and head to Children's Hospital.
At this point Jamie is fine. Happy. Playing. Smiling. Talking.
I'm a hot mess. How did I let this happen. I know he's obsessed with that damn bowl and I know the dogs do NOT like anyone to disturb their eating time. And now because I was careless, because I wasn't paying attention for 1 second, my baby is hurt.
The nurse takes us back and determines the cut on his cheek will probably need stitches. And then tells me no short of a million times that dog bites often get infected and yes this will scar.
Great. More mom guilt. Way to make me feel like an even bigger piece of crap.
So they send us back to the waiting room to do just that....wait.
And wait. And wait. Until we finally get called back to a room.
By this point it's pushing 8:30. Well past Lil Man's bed time, but he's still quite happy.
The nurse tells us it's going to be awhile. And it was. A loooooooong while.
The doctor finally comes in, determines that yes, it will need stitches, but we have to put the numbing gel on first, which then needs to sit for 20-30 minutes.
Jamie is finally sleeping, but we have to wake him up to put the gel on. He screams. I cry. The nurse leaves and he falls back asleep.
30 minutes pass and they all come back in.
We have to burrito Jamie in a sheet so he can't move. The nurse holds his head. I lay my head on his chest to help hold and calm him and miraculously didn't cry. I had to be strong for him. Four stitches and what felt like for.ev.er later we're done. They give him some motrin, an antibiotic and send us on our way.
It's now been almost exactly 5 hours since we got there.
We're all exhausted.
Thankfully Jamie fell asleep in the car and slept the whole night.
I heard him crying about 6 this morning and went in there to find him sweaty.
Took his temp. 100.9. Great. Visions of infection dancing through my head I frantically start searching for the discharge papers. Unless it gets to 101.5 it's fine. I give him more motrin. Some if his antibiotic and a bottle. The cut by his eye is swollen now and he can't open it, but he was babbling away as if nothing was wrong. He's such a trooper. My brave Mr. Boo.
I had to go to work today so he's at home with dad. I know they'll be fine but I HATED having to leave. As if I didn't already feel like the worst mom ever, now I can't even stay home with him. His 4 stitches. And his swollen eye.
I know he won't remember this. I'm praying the scar will be small. I even know that eventually I will get over it because accidents happen, you can't keep your children in a bubble.
But now there's the question of what to do with the dogs.
Honestly. In my eyes. They have to go. Period. No questions asked.
Accident or not. I can't worry that it may happen again. As Jamie gets older, more mobile and more curious he's going to get in their face from time to time. I can't watch him every second of everyday. I have to know he is safe when he's on the floor. Keeping them separated from now until kingdom come isn't an option. Making them outside dogs isn't an option. Several people said I should take a day or two to think about. Not to make any rash decisions and just give them away because I might regret it later. In this situation I feel like I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. There will always be that person who can't believe I would even think of keeping the dog who hurt my child and there will always be that person who can't believe I'd even think of getting rid of them because accidents happen. It's a lose-lose and now I get to be the "lucky" one to figure it all out.
Life's just never easy is it.