We had First Blood on Saturday morning.
I think that he got down from bed in the morning and then tried to climb back up, but toppled backwards onto the corner of the bedside table. That’s my theory, anyway. I just woke up to a loud thud and Owl bursting into tears. PH, who usually spends the last hour or two of the night voluntarily exiled to the couch, came dashing up the stairs.
He seemed fine, at first, until I moved my arm and realized that it was COVERED WITH BLOOD. And there was blood down the back of his pyjamas. AND ALL OVER THE BACK OF HIS HEAD.
It takes a scalp wound a surprising amount of time to stop bleeding.
Owl has given himself some fantastic shiners before, but this is the first real bloody wound he has ever inflicted upon himself.
I was mostly just concerned with staunching the blood and wondering if he needed stitches. PH was concerned about concussion. So there I was, frantically trying to guesstimate the size of the head wound while PH went “can you count to ten, Owl? Count with me. One… two…”
Meanwhile Owl, who had already forgotten all about it (hopefully because he is a baby with a goldfish memory, not because of the head wound) kept trying to play and starting to fuss when we tried to hold him still to examine the HOLE IN HIS HEAD.
Thankfully, it DID stop bleeding… eventually… and doesn’t appear to need any stitches. It’s quite small, actually, only a few millimeters wide, but for the rest of the morning he left little blood splotches on his changing pad, his coat, his shirt, MY ARM…
Also, that same day he successfully counted to 15, so there doesn’t appear to be brain damage.
But I have to take Owl to daycare tomorrow and I’m going to have to show them the head wound. I feel like a terrible parent.
Oh, and he also has The Diaper Rash Of Death.
I’m so tired. Is it the weekend yet?