THUD.

This week has gone by faster than I expected. We had a dentist appointment on Monday to consult on Makani's supernumerary. Dentist said it looks fine, the other teeth will likely move out of the way to make room. His bite may be a bit off, but it's really only an issue if he has an extra adult tooth. They won't check for that until he's three or four, and even then, should he have one, they won't remove it until age seven or eight.

Relief, no? Well, on Tuesday, Makani, my sure-footed little boy, fell face first onto the kitchen tile. He's fallen many, many times. He's hit his face many, many times. Usually a fat lip or some bruising, but that's as far as it's gotten. I was upstairs while Mak was in the kitchen with Brad. I hear a scream followed by silence. You know, that silence that happens with mouth open, red face, as they let out every ounce of breath in their lungs and prepare to inhale so much that they force out that second SCREAM. Well that second scream out of Mak was blood-curling. I RUN downstairs to see Brad holding him, comforting, I calm down, and then Makani pulls away from his shoulder.

And I see it. Blood. A lot of blood. Spilling out of Makani's mouth. This is my boy who has not yet even had the flu, and here he is, in my kitchen, blood pouring out of his mouth. My first thoughts, oh my god, he lost a tooth, he bit through his lip, we have to get to the ER and now, then I hear Brad tell me to get ice. Ice, I can get ice. Where are the bags? WHERE ARE THE BAGS?! Ice, Why does ice have to be so hard to get out of the tray when you're in a rush?! Makani doesn't even like ice. How is Brad going to force ice on his mouth when we don't even know what's going on.

I rush back and Brad had wiped off most of the blood, which seemed to finally be slowing down. We see Mak's two front teeth intact, his poor gums huge and purple and his top lip swollen. I remember briefly that this happened to my sister once. She was six or so and on roller blades. She was pushed, fell and kneed her two front teeth in. Blood also spilled out, but at eleven years old, I didn't register as much. I remember seeing my mom frantic and screaming... 15 years later, here I was, frantic and screaming just like I remember her doing.

We tried to check his teeth, he wasn't letting us. He stopped screaming so we let him be while we all calmed down. I talked to my mom. I hope his teeth don't fall out, she said, your sister's did. Thanks, mom. Helpful. Minutes went by with no crying, Brad had a study group he was hosting, Baby in my belly was doing flips, no doubt reacting to the surge in stress hormones I had just sent through my body. Had to get out of the house. Grabbed the boy, the keys, kissed Brad and went to my mom's. It always cheers up Mak.

Once there, his spirits buoyed, we were able to check his mouth out a little more. His teeth didn't seem loose, his lip DID seem fat, but his speech sounded normal. I also checked his pupils. No concussion on top of this, please. All normal. Deep breaths all around. Once back home, we gave him tylenol and extra cuddles. A short debate on whether we should give him a binky or not, but he can't sleep without one and his teeth don't seem loose... I didn't have the energy for a binky battle. Down he went, binky in his mouth and we all passed out.

It's Saturday now, and his gums look good. Still a bit dark, but his teeth are nicely attached and the fat lip has thinned out. He's eating food normally and we haven't given him Tylenol in days. I think this crisis is over. I'm told by many that boys have much greater need for urgent care visits and the catastrophe count is higher with them.

Is it bad that I'm kinda hoping I have a girl now? 'Cause I'd rather not do this a second time.

Much Love,
The Dolfos