In raising two boys there is a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Today the blood and tears were Cole's and the sweat was mine.
I was vacuuming the living room. Cole was playing in the room and Logan was sitting in his bouncy inspecting my work. Cole ran out of the room one second and the next second he ran back into the room crying and holding his head. It took me a while to calm him down and then I sat him down on the counter to clean off the blood that was beginning to appear. That is when I realized his entire brow bone was swelling and he was beginning to look like the huntch back of Notre Dame in the face.
I was so nervous. I was trying to decide whether or not to take him to the hospital to make sure he didn't have a concussion or eye damage. I called my neighbor for a second opinion (she has two boys, and I was sure she had some experience in this area), but alas, she was not home. I then called my doctor to see if I could bring him by and determine if he needed to go to the emergency room.
He didn't. He just had the beginnings of a black eye (it has turned darker throughout the day) and the nurse said eyes just tend to swell up. I asked her if she was sure he didn't some how break his face. She assured me that he did not.
Then I realized the scary truth. I have a boy. A boy that, with his activity and curiousity level, that will probably get hurt many, many more times. Then I realized the even scarier truth. I have two boys.