Fight AND Flight

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Yesterday afternoon, Grayson took an awesome 2 1/2 hour nap. I was so glad because he was so tired. Also, I think his gums were bothering him quite a bit. Obviously, he really needed the rest. And honestly, it was a nice break for me. It allowed me some time to do some prepping for Father's Day.
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When he woke up, he was in an excellent mood! He was smiling - beaming from head to toe! I was glad to see it because sometimes when he wakes from a long nap, he is grumpy. I think he's like Ray and I - if he sleeps too long, he's worried he's missed something. He didn't want to be picked up right away. He walked from one side of his crib to another. Correction: He bounced from one side of his crib to another! He likes bouncing on his bed/mattress. :)
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He turned the volume of Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Musical Aquarium all the way up and then turned it back down. I don't think we've ever blogged about it, but Grayson LOVES adjusting the volume to things (radios, his toys with sound, etc). I cannot tell you how many times he walks into his room (where the radio is always left on if he's awake) and turns the radio up all the way! We joke that we're getting a glimpse of his teenage years! ;)
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Finally, he would plop down on the mattress and lay his head down. It was so sweet. I said, "You still sleepy?" He looked up at me, smiled, and then got right back up. :)
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Like Ray, he is slow to wake up sometimes. As I said, often, he'll call us in his room (in the morning or after he wakes from a nap). It sounds like he's ready to be gotten, but when you get in there, you see he isn't. He lays around, changes positions (often does those yoga moves) and moans.
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When he was ready, I got him out of his crib and changed his diaper. Of course, he was ready to play. I set him on the ground and off he went! I poured him a serving of apple juice in his sippy cup. He likes to drink a little something when he wakes up. He was happy to get it. But Grayson rarely likes to sit down somewhere and drink. He likes to drink "on the go". He walks around the house with his sippy cup in his mouth and his head tilted back. He's usually a champ at drinking while walking, playing, and pushing his cars around. He can even drink as he climbs up stairs! But needless to say, when you are tired, you just aren't as smooth as you usually are.
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Even though G got a great nap, he acted sluggish all afternoon. While he's usually great on his feet, he kept stumbling. I think this was because he was still a little tired and maybe because his teeth were bothering him.
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We were in his playroom. He was drinking his juice and playing with several toys. I guess he thought of another toy he wanted to play with or decided he wanted to go to another room. He stood up (with his sippy cup in his mouth)...and before I could do anything about it, he tripped on a toy! I knew he was hurt. He just laid there still on his stomach with the sippy cup still in his mouth. He was quiet for what seemed like 10 seconds (but was probably only 2 or 3). Then, he removed the sippy cup and started crying. That's when I saw blood running down his chin.
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His face didn't hit the toy or the carpet. The toy tripped him. It was the sippy cup that cut him. Apparently, his mouth went over the rubber spout and the plastic is what cut him. His lip wasn't busted. It was a gash right below his lip.
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I'm pretty proud of myself. I acted fast, but I didn't panic. I wanted to pick him up, comfort him, and make him feel better. Let's just say that how I envisioned it was nothing like how it happened.
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I was hoping me picking him up and loving on him would make him feel a little better - or at least that he'd welcome it. NOPE. As soon as I picked him up, he threw himself backwards and started crying harder and louder. As you can imagine, I wasn't expecting that to happen. Again, somehow I picked him up without allowing him to cause himself further injury. I hoped he would calm down, but he didn't. He bucked, kicked, screamed, cried, pushed, and shoved.
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I immediately walked him to the bathroom to get warm water on a clean washcloth so I could dab the cut to wipe the blood off and semi-clean it. It didn't go well. Every time I put the washcloth near his face, he would turn his head and lean his entire body away from me. What he was doing was wiping blood on my shirt. I didn't care at all about my shirt. I was worried about my rough shirt hurting him and my shirt dirtying the cut. I tried and tried to be gentle and show him that all I was trying to do was help him. He'd hear nothing of it.
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Finally, I had no choice but to lean him back on my lap (with his head resting on my knees) and do what I needed to do. He wasn't happy, but I got the cut and his face wiped off at least. I picked him back up and hugged on him. He didn't want me holding him. Actually, I don't think he had any idea what he wanted. He just knew he was hurting and I had him pinned.
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With him in my arms, I walked across the house to our bathroom closet where we keep all medical stuff. I got a q-tip and the tube of Neosporin. In front of our bathroom mirror, I squeezed the salve onto the q-tip and put it to his cut. I expected him to get really mad. Instead, he got very still and very quiet. After nearly 10 minutes of fighting me and trying to get away from me, he was finally willing to accept my love and doctoring. When I say he didn't move, that's what I mean. Believe it or not, he actually held his lips a certain way - the idea position for me to put medicine on his gash. I thanked him and told him what he good boy he was.
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During all that drama, I was kinda aggravated. I wanted to help him, and he wouldn't let me. I didn't want to, but if it came down to it, I was willing to do whatever to take care of his injury. I'm glad he had a change of heart.
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As I was telling Ray and my mom this story, I was laughing. You wonder why I was laughing? WELL, Grayson is just like me. He fights and tries to get away when he's hurt. It might sound weird, but I do the same thing. I can remember doing that as a kid too. I'm injured, need help (or could at least use comforting) but flee or fight the person trying to help me. I know it sounds funny, but it's true.
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I'm laughing now as I type this blog, but when I'm hurt, it isn't funny. I don't want anyone to come near me or touch me. I can think of times where Ray has accidentally hit me in the head with something (i.e., if he misjudged something he was throwing)...he apologized, and tried to come comfort me or check out where I got hit. I always walk away and if he gets close to me, I actually make threats. :) Hilarious, I know!
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I can think of two funny stories to tell on myself. Both happened when Ray and I were dating. Once Ray was mine and my mom's house. We planned to cook supper. And of course, I was going to make dessert. Like an idiot, I plugged in the hand mixer BEFORE I put the beaters in. By the way, I obviously didn't learn my lesson because I still do this. ;) You can imagine what happens next! YEP! I accidentally hit the power button with my fingers intertwined in the beaters (as I was trying to get them attached). Because the beaters aren't sharp, I didn't get cut. However, it REALLY hurt! Once I got free from the mixer, I held my hands together and ran into the bathroom. As I was running through the living room where Ray and my mom were, they were both yelling, "What happened?!" I don't even think I answered them. I kept running to the bathroom. Once I got there, I slammed the door shut and locked myself in. If I remember correctly, I think my mom didn't stand on the other side of the door. She knows how I am (and that I'll come out when I'm ready). But Ray did (he didn't know me too well at that time). He was very sweet - asking me what happened, if I was okay, if I needed help, why I ran and was locked in a room by myself, etc. :)
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The other happened when Ray was over at my mom's house for supper. We cooked together often. Anyway...oh man, this one is funny! As we were standing there talking, a bee flew up my shirt and stung me! Right then and there, I screamed bloody murder, ripped my shirt off, threw it across the room, and ran to the bathroom! Yes, I slammed the door and locked it. By the way, it wasn't because I was embarrassed - Ray and I had been dating a while at this point. ;) Again, I don't think neither Ray nor Mom knew what happened. But after a few minutes, they pieced the events together and made a good guess. When I came out of the bathroom, I confirmed their hypotheses to be correct. When I first come out of the locked room, I am ready to discuss exactly what happened. By this time, I've calmed down, accessed my injuries, and are ready to face the people who I left so confused. :) After I tell the story, I am then willing to hear others laugh or joke about my actions. ;) Once the coast is clear, Ray used to say something like, "I didn't know if you were okay. Don't run away like that". Now he says, "I didn't know what the hell was wrong with you. Don't do that shit". :)
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Anyway, that concludes the story of Grayson's very first injury (well, one that wasn't a tiny scratch, bruise or bump) and several wacko things I have done (and still do). :) After trying to help Grayson yesterday, I now know how frustrated Ray feels when I "fight AND flight". ;) I can't help but wonder if Grayson will grow out of that or continue to frustrate someone for the rest of his life! :) Slowly, we are discovering little ways G is like me or like Ray. It is a very interesting and fun process. And when a discovery like this is made, we can't help but laugh. :) Needless to say, I tend to snicker (because it is kinda an funny and embarrassing reflection of me) and Ray tends to laugh his butt off. That's okay because he'll be doing something like Ray next I bet! ;)
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P.S. Grayson is okay. I don't think his cut is bothering him much today, if at all. But it definitely looks worse today than yesterday. It might start itching soon because it's healing. We are keeping the place clean and applying medicine as we are "allowed". ;)

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