Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).
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22 May 2015

His First A&E Trip...

BabyBoy had his first A&E outing last night (He's fine, don't worry).

His tiny hand got trapped in a door and, oblivious, Miss4 keep trying to slam it shut. Bless.
An accident - We 99% believe.
Door safety words have been said. Doors and their hinges have been threatened. 
<shakes screwdriver>

Miss4's utter lack of guilt reassures us it was an accident (or that she’s learnt to lie as well as me already).


Of the 7 trips to A&E we have done, only 2 have NOT been life threatening, or needed stitches or a cast. That includes this one.
What are we doing right wrong? Are kids really this accident prone?
I did start asking other parents what their A&E rate was. The first two said they had never been, ever (Liars)... I stopped asking people .


(Mrs. Amazing loves a graph)

So last night it felt like BabyBoy had really joined the A&E gang.

A rite of passage if you like.

- Said first word - CHECK
- Peed on me - CHECK
- Puked on me - CHECK
- First tooth - CHECK
- Bite me - CHECK
- Fallen off the bed - CHECK
- Points at stuff and says 'Doh' - CHECK, CHECK,CHECK
- Been to A&E - CHECK

We should have a party and celebrate - Happy First A&E!
We could have red balloons, I'm sure I could find an appropriate card. We could party games like doctors and nurses. Everyone could bring bandages and plasters. And there should lots of cake and tea, because I like them both.
Oh the fun we could have!

And whilst everyone is having a good time and shovelling cake into their faces, hopefully no one will notice that whilst BabyBoy was at A&E, it scared absolute crap out of me. 


I was fine… until I was alone at home.


Team ‘Parents’ (yay!) had a 5 minute logistics discussion and it was decided that someone needed to stay home and trick or lure the other, not bleeding children, to bed. (Save the baby sitters for real emergencies, like going to the pub together)
Plus…  Mrs. Amazing was already covered in blood and it seemed a shame to get me all bloody too. (I still did)

It was after Boy7 and Miss4 had finally given up the fight and gone to sleep.
I went downstairs and had absolutely no idea what to do with myself.
Everything was shit on tele.
My phone seemed pointless.
I already had a cup of tea.
I just had to wait and it was horrible and I hated it.

I knew he was safe and with his Mum and going to the best place in the world for when you need A&E, you know, A&E.


But BabyBoy is very, very, very tiny and it wouldn't take much to break him. Forever. If he was an awesome toy that broke easily, he would go on a self and only I would get to play with it. He needs wrapping in bubble wrap.




He needs his Dad there 24-7 so he doesn't get hurt. That's what a Dad is supposed to do? Right? Protect their monkeys children.

But how in Satan's nostrils am I supposed to do that when I'm not even there?
Huh?

The cat walks in, thinks about moaning about his crappy crap food. Senses now is not the best time and leaves whistling (Impressive).


The weird thing is I thought I was getting better at handling each A&E trip. Not worse.
Luckily Mrs. Amazing seems to be get better at handling this stuff.
WTF! Being the big strong rock is my job, I was good at it!
I blame all that love and emotion stuff, eroding my island and stuff. Damn kids.
Stupid conflicted-confused Dad brain - Be the rock! / Be the loving Dad!

Still I imagine it was nice for Mrs. Amazing to catch up with all the A&E staff, hear the gossip, it’s been a while. Apparently they got our favourite room, the chocolate buttons were on the house. They've recently redecorated. New machines in the parents room as well. It’s the NHS, it’s free...


Thank you NHS for fixing one of my babies... Again.
Every drink you ever want is on me.


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