When Mommy's Away...Disaster!

Mitzi headed out of town this afternoon at about 3:00pm to accompany the young women in our ward on a trip to see the Manti Pageant in Utah. That means that Corbin and his dad were going to have a boys-only weekend full of video games, wrestling, action movies, and unbalanced meals. Some great memories were sure to be made for the Cannon boys this weekend.

Day 1: Only four hours until Corbin's bedtime. All I had to do was entertain him until dinner, feed him, change him into jammies, and then off to bed at 7:00pm. Mitzi even left out the recipe for dinner and started defrosting the meat for us, so we were already on target for a smooth and easy evening. What could go wrong in those first few hours after Mom left?


Disaster! As I was trying to get dinner ready and clean up along the way (just like Mitzi does so well), I was rinsing out all of the cans I was opening to make our casserole entree and putting them on the counter by the trash compactor for disposal. Corbin was growing impatient and the banana I had given him at 4:30pm to tide him over was apparently wearing off so he decided to see if there was anything good inside any of those cans sitting on the counter top just within reach. When I heard the clanking of metal on the ground and saw that Corbin had pulled a can off the counter top I thought to myself, "Uh oh, he might cut himself on the lid if I don't take that away from him." I bent down and saw that his hand was partly inside the can. I remembered that on one of the cans the lid came all the way off and I'd put it back inside. That was the can I thought he had and that he was attempting to remove the sharp lid from the bottom of the can. So I grabbed the can and grabbed his little paw and pulled the two apart. Nothing happened for a second or two but I soon realized that this was one of the cans on which the lid was still partially attached. Then I looked over at Corbin whose little paw was in his mouth and whose face was contorted in pain. Then I saw the blood.

I didn't realize how bad the cut was because it was impossible to get his injured hand to where I could examine it closely. Soon enough though the flow of blood let me know this was more than a slight nick on the fingertip. Blood started getting everywhere so I put him over the sink which was full to the brim with pots and pans as I tried to think of where in the world we kept the Bandaids. I ran his little hand under the sink and the blood just kept coming like crazy. I slowly began to realize that it wasn't going to stop anytime soon and even if I could find the bandages (if I'm lucky), and then get one on him (fat chance), and then get him to leave it on (not a prayer) that it would even come close to stopping the surging flow. I took my sobbing boy into the bathroom in the hopes that the Bandaids would be in there somewhere. Blood was getting everywhere and in our overly white house I had to think fast to keep this temporary tragedy from doing permanent damage. Finally I realized I should put him in the bathtub where he could bleed in a nice, safe place while I found a bandage. I found the bandages, managed to get one on, but he SCREAMED in pain about it and ripped it off like I had just taped a hot coal to his thumb.

I didn't know what to do and thought I might have to take him to the emergency room if the bleeding didn't stop to get some baby stitches. Then I thought that was a stupid idea and realized that it just needed time to flow until it clotted. So I pulled off his clothes and just sat with him while he was bleeding in the tub. I decided to turn the water on to make this into a bath (= fun) rather than a "stand in here and bleed for a while" (= not fun). It worked, and before long he had stopped crying and was stomping and splashing about. The cut eventually clotted and I spent the next few minutes sucking dried blood out of my shirt, my pants, various towels and the fabric portion of the shower curtain. (Is that too graphic, or just gross? I've heard that saliva is one of the only things that can remove a blood stain so I did what I had to do.)


About an hour later we were finally having dinner. Corbin at like a ravenous beast - all of the bleeding and crying must have really worked up an appetite. Finally bed time was rolling around and his thumb was looking to be on the mend. Unfortunately, in his toddler rambunction, he pulled back the skin flap and started bleeding again just as I was about to put on his jammies. Back to the tub! The bleeding was only a fraction of what it had been originally so it stopped rather quickly. Corbin was making the most of this second bath in as many hours by climbing about and splashing down and making all kinds of watery messes for daddy. Right as I was about to drain the tub and put him down to bed after a long, emotional day, what happens? He slips in the tub and bites a hole in his lip.


More blood, more bath time. Good grief! If his mommy was here to see this she would never leave town again. He didn't cry about his lip nearly as much as about his finger and it sealed up relatively quickly. Finally, I was able to get him out, put on his jammies, say prayers and put him in his crib. I was exhausted, and fortunately, so was he. He went right to sleep and we both look forward to a better day tomorrow.