The two little boys had just fallen asleep. I was in the middle of writing today's post when I got a call from school. The eight year old had a collision at recess, and a trip to the hospital was now in my immediate future. Of course, only half an hour before this phone call, I talked with Husband at work. I told him that it was a beautiful afternoon, and he should run outside today. Guess where he was when I called to tell him to meet me at the hospital. Wake babies up, frantically call friends to find someone to watch sleepy babies, leave several messages at Husband's office. I finally got Eight year old, and he had a large gash through his eyebrow. No butterflying this one. We head to the hospital. And as should have been expected, we had rushed, rushed, rushed so we could wait, wait, wait. Two hours in, I finally talk to Husband to tell him he needs to leave work, pick up the van at the hospital, pick up our kids and our friends' kids from school, drop off the friends' kids at the same house he will pick up the little boys, and head home. Three and a half hours in I talk to Husband again to tell him he's going to have to start dinner, too. We weren't going anywhere soon.
My baby boy did a great job throughout his first emergency room visit. Just enough toughness, but enough little boy that he let me hold him in my lap a bit. Four and a half hours after we arrived, we finally left with five stitches and two headaches.
I had just enough time to gobble up dinner that Husband had made before I jumped in the car to take nin year old to basketball practice.
Each day Husband and I discuss our plans for the day. By the time the kids go to bed, those plans have changed several times. That's how it is with kids. Things change in the blink of an eye, and in emergencies, I am so grateful to have such a loving Church family to carry us through.
