Starting with Lily's broken collarbone about a month ago, our rough stretch continues. I'm sick of it. I need some peace and stability.
Yesterday I had an office day, and I got a text from the nanny around lunchtime that Molly had fallen and hit her head. She said she iced the bump (and I do know that a bump is better than something that goes inward). I also knew that Molly's nap was upcoming, and the idea of putting a kid down for a nap who has just had a head injury scared me, so I told the nanny that I might send Kyle to check on Molly. I had a meeting I couldn't skip out of, otherwise I would have checked on her myself. I just wasn't entirely trusting of the nanny's judgment on the head bump. The summer nanny, yes ... I would have felt comfortable. But not this girl.
I asked Kyle to check on Molly. He never made it home.
About 3:45pm, I got a call from the nanny. It's bad if you get an actual call versus a text message. I immediately said, 'uh, oh no - what's the problem?'. She said, "uh, yeah, Molly woke up crying, and then she threw up a little".
I hit the PANIC button. Head injury? Vomiting? My child?! This cannot be happening. But it was. I started running through the office wildly, looking for another parent to consult, and only ran into one mother I don't know well. We agreed the nanny should call 911 and I would race home as quickly as possible.
And race I did. About 65 miles per hour home on normal side streets. I pulled up to the sickening sight of the fire truck outside my home. Heart pounding, I ran in, only to find three EMTs, Claire, and the nanny holding a smiling Molly. I only focused on Molly and the EMTs.
"She's fine" they said. I was shaking violently. "I'd still call your pediatrician for their advice, but she seems OK".
I signed release forms. I thanked the guys profusely for being called out unnecessarily - "better safe than sorry" they said to me. Yes. Better safe than sorry.
I couldn't look at the nanny yet. Accidents happen, yes, but she couldn't wipe that silly smile off her face or even show one hint of empathy, and it was making me angry.
Kyle got home, and the EMTs briefed him before leaving. The fire truck left, and I stood in my front yard, holding Molly tight, alone with her, and allowed myself the letdown. Ah, lord, my child, I am so happy you seem OK. Please be OK.
I talked to the pediatrician's office, who advised me on warning signs for the night.
We got through dinner, and while Kyle was annoyed by Molly's crying (she had only napped two hours the whole day and was tired), I wasn't phased - she could have cried for an hour straight and I would still be praising the heavens for her health.
I got Molly to bed, pulled together a photo thank-you card online for Claire's birthday guests, checked again on Molly to make sure she was conscious, and promptly left for my friend's house.
I drank a glass of wine. That will be one of maybe 5 whole drinks this year, but lord I needed it. And I basked in my friend's warmth and empathy and shared tears as I allowed myself a brief moment of self pity over the non-stop kid drama and everything else that doesn't seem right in my life.
I got home around 11pm, checked on Molly several times in the night, and didn't even want to strangle her when she woke me up at 6am this morning. Child, I am so happy you are OK.
The nanny? I'm wrestling with my thoughts about her. Everyone knows I've been struggling with her. Accidents happen - Lily broke her collarbone on my watch. It's not the accident that's most upsetting, but the sense that I can't trust her judgment or the story I'm getting out of her. I need to fully, fully trust the person watching my kids. And I don't trust her. That's the issue here. The question is what do I plan to do about this?
It might have helped if she had been able to say "I'm sorry". She didn't seem apologetic or overly concerned, other than from a clinical, cold standpoint. Ooook.
So today I enjoyed my kids yet also worked my tail off around the house ... dishwasher, laundry, cooking, etc. At 8pm I called it quits and watched tv for 2 hours straight before I finally got that shower I missed today. It's the new season of tv that is at fault for my lack of postings this month. I'm trying to figure out which shows are worth watching, so I'm watching a lot of them.
And with the collarbone and the earaches and the strep and the fevers and the pink eye (oh, whoops, I forgot to mention that last Thursday Claire woke up with pink eye) and now the 911 scare I have just needed A Break From It All. Including my beloved Internet. Television has been that break for me.
And now I'm off to blowdry my hair and go to bed. I'm exhausted. Bet you can't guess why.