Waaaaaa! I'm Bleeding!

How many times has one of your children comes in from playing and you say, "How did you hurt your knee?" They look down to see a drop of blood on their skinned knee. Their eyes get big, then their face clouds up, and they holler, "Waaaa! I'm bleeding!" It's happened in your home, right?

I never made a big thing about an injury. We never called it a BooBoo. I'd wash it; sometimes with peroxide and they'd help with lots of puffing and blowing and nervous giggling over the bubbles. I'd put a bandaid on it, give them a kiss, and send them back outside to play.

Sometimes, just a kiss on the sore spot would be enough, with the words "You're going to live." for reassurance.

I taught my kids not to scream just for fun. If they screamed, I would know someone was hurt. Even then, I would not rush out to rescue them. I would wait. Either an older child would handle it or come get me. Surprisingly, there were only a few times that we actually had to go to the emergency room.

I can handle blood when I am taking care of someone else, but if I cut myself... I get all woosy and have to sit down. **smile**

Just yesterday, I cut my thumb while helping with preparing lunch at my parents' house. My daddy was there in a jiffy with some nice stretchy cloth bandaids to fix me up. I felt like a kid again, and it was nice.

I taught my children early what blood was for in the body. I taught them about its ability to clot and how it turns red when it hits oxygen, how it takes nutrients all over the body, etc. The more facts they learn about things, the less it scares them.

So, why do I get faint? Who knows? I guess I'm just a spleeny kid on the inside.

3 comments:

Amy said...

My kids used to like to wear bandaids as body art. Every year Santa brings a new box of decorator bandaids to each kid.

Laury said...

Blowing on your ouchie, Vonnie dear. Will let you sit while all the jewelers crowd around you to look see how it's healing, okay?

Dee Yoder said...

Joseph would hide his eyes when he had an injury and ask me, with tight lips, if there was any blood. I would say, "Oh my! Yes...just buckets and buckets! It looks like catsup being poured out!" This, of course, made him look and then we'd laugh together. It somehow seems worse when it's our own blood, doesn't it?

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