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He Coulda Been a Contender

I was at work and my cell phone buzzed. It was Cowgrit calling me from home. “Hello,” I answered. I could hear the Calvesgrit in the background, and it sounded like the littlest was crying.

Cowgrit said, “Calfgrit3 is hurt. I need you to come home and help me.”

“OK,” I said, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” (It’s a 15 minute drive from the office to home.)

I saved my computer work and hustled out of my office to my car. I wasn’t worried because my wife didn’t sound upset.

Cowgrit is a nurse (RN). She was a full-time pediatric nurse for several years, and she’s been a part-time (four days a month) maternity ward nurse since Calfgrit7 was born. I’m thankful for her knowledge and experience in pediatrics almost daily, and especially with incidents like what she called me for. No matter how bad something with the boys looks to me, if she’s not worried about it, I can stay calm. I knew, whatever this problem was, she sounded calm on the phone. If the hurt was really bad, she would have told me to meet them at the hospital — so probably nothing broken or bleeding a lot.

But before I got home, she called my cell phone again. She was taking him to the doctor’s office, and I should go to meet them there. She said Calfgrit3 had fallen and hit his head, beside his eye, on a table. The area was swelling faster than she could stop it with an ice pack, so she wanted the doctor to see him. She said she didn’t think there was any serious damage, but it was bad enough to get a doctor’s opinion.

She was still calm, but I could tell the concern in her voice. Calfgrit3 had stopped crying in the background. (He was eating some crackers; Goldfish can soothe any crying child.)

I arrived at the doctor’s office just a few minutes after my family. When I stepped into the examining room and saw Calfgrit3, I said, “Whoa!” He had a big ole goose egg on the corner of his eye. It looked like he had half a golf ball under his skin. He was playing happily with Calfgrit7, apparently unbothered by the injury.

Cowgrit told me some of the swelling had gone down — good lord, how bad was it before I saw it? She told me the story of the incident: They had gone across the street to visit a neighbor. Within moments of them getting in the house, Calfgrit3 tripped and fell, hitting the corner of his eye on a table. The bump had started growing immediately, so she rushed him back across the street to put ice on it. She also gave him some pain med. She checked to see if it looked like his eye was damaged, but she thought it just a bump. But when the bump just kept getting bigger, to the point of closing his eye, she decided the doctor was needed.

Eventually the doctor came in and examined Calfgrit3. The doc checked his eye, ears, nose, and the goose egg. She felt around his eye socket to determine if anything was broken. She said everything looked fine, and that this was just a bump. “Keep putting cold on it till it goes down completely. It’ll look real bad for the next couple of days,” she said. But there was apparently no real damage to his skull or eye. Whew.

A day later, sure enough, it looks real bad. The swelling is mostly gone, but all around his eye is various shades of black and blue, and green and yellow. His eye lid is all black. Calfgrit3 acts perfectly normal, like he has no discomfort. It’s kind of funny, in a disturbing way, to see a cute, smiling little boy looking up at you with that big, ugly shiner around his eye. In a few more days, there’ll be no sign of this injury. Kids heal so fast.

Cowgrit is great at moments like that incident. Had I been the only parent with him when his eye swole up like that, I would have freaked out. I’d have probably gone directly to the hospital emergency room fearing a concussion or lost eye.

And if a degree and experience in pediatric nursing was not great enough for a mother, she also has a degree in elementary education. I am so lucky to have Cowgrit as the mother of my children.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

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Last Lunch With the First Graders

I went to Calfgrit7’s school today for his lunch time. (I decided not to bring up the bullet situation with the office staff, but this “lunch date” was planned before the bullet was found, so this timing was just coincidental.) This is the last lunch at school I’d have with him in first grade — school will be out for this grade in a couple of weeks.

Calfgrit7 was very happy to see me, and he immediately held out his hand to take me with him into the cafeteria and to their class’s tables. They have to sit boy-girl-boy-girl now because both sexes were getting too rowdy when they got together in their groups. The girl sitting beside CG7 was a tiny, little thing with a little Barbie band-aid on her forehead. She showed me her boo-boo rather proudly. Across the table from me was another girl with a pink and purple “Princess” shirt. Beside her was a boy with disheveled hair and half a dozen packs of ketchup to apply to everything on his tray.

The kids are so silly and cute. The two girls with us continuously wanted CG7’s and my attention — we’re just the babe magnets, yes we are. How you doin’?

I snapped a few pictures around the cafeteria because Calfgrit7 won’t be back in this school next year, and I want him to have something to remind him of it if he ever feels nostalgic for his kindergarten and first grade years. I know, I know, he’s only 7. But I wish I had some pictures of my elementary school so I could look back and remember what it looked like when I was there.

That’s the sad thing about nostalgia: you only think of it when it’s too late to record those memories.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

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My Son is Barney Fife

Calfgrit7 got undressed for his bath, and I checked his clothes pockets to make sure nothing “extra” would get in the washing machine. From one pocket I pulled out a bullet. A bullet.

It isn’t a live cartridge, it’s just a spent and deformed bullet.* It’s sliced in half diagonally, and the bottom is slightly smushed into an oval shape. Looking at in my hand, it’s a right good sized caliber; I figured it might be a .44 or .45, but when I checked in on a ruler, it’s at least .50. Its size, the three rings around the bottom, and the hollow base (not the point) made me think it might be a MiniĆ© ball. [I just looked up pictures of MiniĆ© balls through Google, and now I’m certain this is such.]

Calfgrit7 was excited when I said it was a bullet. I wasn’t upset or anything, I was just surprised. I mean, we’ve found all kinds of things in his pockets over the years, but I didn’t expect to find a bullet. Especially a Civil War-style bullet. (I don’t expect it’s actually from the Civil War.) He said he found it on the playground at school. Wow.

I’m considering taking it to his school office just to let them know what was found. It’s not a big deal in itself, and I don’t expect anything to “be done” about it. But my pointing it out to them might be of use if some other kid finds one or if anything weird or “suspicious” comes up about kids finding bullets on the playground. Who knows, some other kid may find one (one more easily recognizable as a bullet) and show it around to his classmates. I can imagine the uproar that could follow such an event.

Thinking about the potential for things to get blown out of proportion is what makes me think twice about telling the school. I can just see the newspaper headlines, “FIRST GRADER FINDS BULLET ON SCHOOL PLAYGROUND”.

* For those who aren’t familiar with guns and bullets, a bullet is the lead projectile that comes out of the gun. By itself, with no powder and no gun, it is no more dangerous than a small rock.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

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Long Weekend

It’s was a long and active weekend, and it wore me out. After we put the boys to bed Monday night, it was another half hour before both were asleep — Calfgrit7 passed out almost immediately, but Calfgrit3 just would not fall asleep. Cowgrit and I had to wait nearly an hour after putting them to bed before we could turn on the movie we wanted to watch.

We didn’t do anything particularly interesting this weekend, just played mostly, and painted one bathroom. It was warm enough that the boys could get wet in the backyard. We set up a new play table that’s designed for sand and water, and the boys played with that just on and on. I grilled some burgers and hotdogs and a steak skewer for dinner Monday night.

So, like I said, nothing really interesting. Just some normal Memorial Day weekend activities around the house. I’d like to thank all our service men and women who put themselves on the line to let all the rest of us have the freedom to have mundane weekends. Thank you.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

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