So something very bad almost happened to us last night.
We were at my parent's house for dinner, and I was sitting beside The Girl. My husband had little kid duty and I was squabbling with my dad and taking an extra-large helping of mashed turnips – seriously, they're delicious – when The Girl decided that the food was moving around the table too slowly and upended a LARGE bowl of gravy (still steaming from the stove) onto herself – her arms, her torso, her legs.
She started screaming, and I yanked her to her feet and pulled her sodden, burning clothes off of her – time slowed to an agonizing crawl as her damp clothes stuck to her and I had to make the instant (and AWFUL) decision about what to take off first. Shirt? Pants? "Protect her torso" something in me said, and I told her to pull off her burning sweater while I yanked off her pants and tights and by the time I got her heavy sweater off ("It hurt so much I couldn't think," she told me later.) she was – at first glance – obviously burned on her arm and chest. I ran her burns under cold water while still keeping a calm eye on how badly burned she was – would she need an ambulance? was someone calling 911?
She is pretty much totally okay – she even insisted on finishing her supper last night – and she headed off to school today with big plans to show everyone in class her gaudy wrist for show and tell in the morning (or whatever they call "show and tell" in grade four. "Discussing Our Upcoming Puberty And Our Transformer Collections", perhaps.). And as for me, it wasn't until it was very obvious that she only had one burn - on her wrist – and that it was only a first degree burn that I was able to start crying myself. BECAUSE THAT WAS REALLY REALLY TRAUMATIZING. I mean, the only burns I was expecting this week were going to be on me tonight when I make my yearly eggrolls and get my annual Chinese New Year burns, which goes to show that you really can't plan these things, I guess.
I often think that the best thing that ever, ever could have possibly happened to me as a parent was my coming so close to dying that time I was so sick – although I certainly didn't enjoy it, it DID show me with a desperate clarity that my children, my husband are the only things in my whole life that really matter to me – that everything else was utterly trivial compared to them. And this might sound extreme, but I still remember the piercing terror that I felt when it looked like I was going to die – not a terror for me, but an animal terror for my children that they would be without a mother. That has stuck with me, and although I'm still not some patient Zen mother now, I'm more patient, more content, but I'm also deeply scarred in a way that's hard to explain.
We've been trying to eat healthier – more whole wheat (well, not The Baby), fewer cookies – but I'm throwing that out the window tonight and making these cookies, timing them so that they'll be still warm from the oven when my kids get home from school tonight. "I am glad you're my kid," the cookies will say (in cookie language), I hope, this gift I give them from my hands.
Speaking of my hands – at bedtime, I realized that my hands hurt and that is how I discovered for the first time that they were spotted with scarlet burns. I'd burned myself quite badly helping my child escape from being seriously burned and I hadn't even noticed until hours later, in the sudden panic and the later monitoring and the slow waves of relief. My hands ache today, sore in their wounded places, and I think that later on they will scar – these marks that motherhood leave, the scars you never think you'll have.
oh my goodness! It sounds like you were quick thinking on your feet to get the clothes off of her so fast to prevent any further damage! I’m so sorry you all had to experience that, but so glad she is ok!
WOW! Who would have thought gravy could be so dangerous! We work so hard to put them in helmet and knee and elbow pads and then… Gravy!
Glad you are all Okay!
So glad you guys are okay! Hot things are so scary and often so unavoidable – big hugs. xoxoxo
I know. I truly think the major fear I have about dying is the fear of leaving my children motherless. So glad you didn’t die and also very glad the girl is okay. Burns are horrible!
Oh! I’m glad The Girl is okay! That’s scary though.
The cookies look tasty and there’s nothing like coming home to something warm from the oven. Yum!
I’m so glad The Girl turned out to be okay. I think my kids need a message in cookie language today too. Thank you.
Dude. Came back to get the cowboy cookies recipe. Could have sworn I commented on this yesterday. I think I missed the robot code step. Alas.
It’s amazing how the mothering instinct takes over in times of peril, blocking out all but our children’s imminent need for help and our desire for them to be alwasys be safe. I hope the cookies had their desired effect.
So glad she’s okay. What a frightening experience.
I completely get this.
I’m so glad she was okay in the end. It is something miraculous how we can ignore ourselves altogether when consumed with the urgent need of our children.
Oh Beck, this is so terrible and so beautiful all at once. I would gladly burn myself to keep my Munchkin safe.
I’m glad the girl is alright. It’s horrific to think of her sitting there in heavy hot gravy clothing.
I’m so glad she is okay. How terrible for you – and her! Beautiful post. Plus, those cookies look wonderful, I’m going to try them out.
Oh my God, Beck! Just shuddering over what the outcome COULD have been. Glad it was winter and she had on a heavy sweater to soak some of it up…
Hugs…
Oh I’m so glad that everyone’s okay! And yes, I think kids recover from something like this much quicker than their mothers do. Once Abel had to have surgery. He was fine that afternoon, but it took Donn and I days to recover.
Beautiful post. Hope your hands feel better soon.
Beck, I am so glad she is okay, that both of you are okay. It takes a while for a mom’s heart to be okay, though, as I know all too well.
Wow, I am so glad that she was ok. What a terrifying incident! It gave me chills to read.
We have preschool friends whose mother passed away a year and a half ago from lung cancer. Every time I see those children I have to stifle a sob and the urge to reach out and hug my daughter. That fear that my kids might have to live without me is gut wrenching. But my daughter choked on bacon one day, and after that, the fear that I might have to live without her dwarfed even that.
You summed up so many emotions here but you nailed it. I am so glad your little girl is ok. Scary stuff.
Terrifying. Absolutely.
how terrifying! But well written, I’m glad everyone is okay.
Again, I am so so so glad she is ok.
Cookies are awesome for communicating the best!
Glad she is ok! Eeps so scary for you~
I’m so glad all ended well. My burn story: when I was about 7 a big spoonful of burning hot mashed squash fell on my right hand. I still have the scar–it hurt like crazy.
Hugs to you all…
So glad The Girl is okay and that you are too! No doubt everyone at the table were afraid – even horrified by the accident. Possibly when things settled down Grandma shared her own “burn from spilled soup” story and showed her scars. Accidents can happen so quickly – good thing you acted quick to remove her clothes! Hugs to you all!
May you have a Safe and Happy Lunar New Year!
When I was 4, I pulled a pot of boiling soup off the stove and onto my little body. When I was 11, I had significant amounts of boiling deep fryer grease land on my face scarring me permanently. I have forgotten the pain of both. In both cases, there was no doctor–just a whole lot of cold water and TLC.
Oh you poor thing. Glad everyone is ok. Kid accidents can be so traumatizing indeed. It’s crazy how those mommy instincts take over during crisis moments.
Phew, that could have been so so worse. Thanks goodness it wasn’t!
I am crying and laughing at the same time. So glad she’s okay. (Cookie language- HA ha ha.)
Funny, we have some things in common: My son who is now twenty had a similar experience when he was a toddler. He pulled a container of boiling bacon fat onto himself and still has scars on his arm and neck. It’s not fun for the child, and so very not-fun for mom. I think I cried as hard as he did.
And once I had the flu very badly– it infected my heart– and one night I thought I was dying. I kept passing out, and each time I wondered if I would wake up. First I was panicked because I couldn’t imagine my husband wife-less, or my kids motherless. And even after God gave me peace about His care for my family even if I wasn’t there, I kept praying over and over “God, don’t let my kids have to wake up and find their mom dead.”
All that to say, I understand, I empathize, I’m touched.
This whole post took my breath away. I’m glad it wasn’t more serious.
I have a friend whose sister-in-law is very ill and will likely die. She has two little girls and I get a panicky feeling everytime I think about how the thought of leaving her children must overshadow any other feeling she must be experiencing right now. Keep well.