During my maternity leave, we rented a cluster of cabins around a zero-plunge-entry pool in Maine. It was the perfect setup for The Bigs, who were four and five years old. We didn’t have to share a reef with any other vacationers, and they could wade into the water while still being able to touch bottom. It was close enough to home that we could drive there, but far enough away that it was more of a “staycation”.
Late one afternoon, Grandma needed a break from The Biggs’ noise and thrashing, so she took the baby back to our cabin. After a while, Middle decided he wanted his toy boat. I told him, “You’re a big boy now; you can hurry back to the cabin.” It was a better option than leaving my oldest alone in the pool. Also, I needed to encourage her older son, since he seemed a bit unhappy about not being a “kid” anymore.
I only called Grandma to give her a ten-minute warning so she could put The Biggs’ Chicken Noggins and Smiley Fries in the oven, so I didn’t call her again to warn her that Middle was on her way back. I had already started packing for our poolside presence, so the boat that Middle wanted was a surprise (I had hoped that no negotiation would be needed to get back to the cabin for the evening well). I reminded him to run across the lawn area where I could see him, hoping he would just stop at the porch where the beach toys were, grab the boat and come right back. He should have been out of my sight only for a moment.
Well, more than a few moments passed, and she didn’t come back. I wanted to check on him, but I couldn’t leave Oldest in the pool. Maybe he just had to go potty…But then, I heard my phone vibrate in my carry-all tote. Grandma informed me that Middle had a “little accident”. Did he not make the potty on time?
But no, he meant a real accident. He was running, and he climbed up the porch steps and stubbed his knee on a protruding nail. Grandmother thought I should come and see. Alas, I had to shorten the pool time at Oldest.
“Ah!”
“I’m sorry, honey. Please get out of the pool. Your brother hurt his knee, and I have to decide if he needs to go to the doctor.”
but mah-Ahem!“
“No buts, honey, I can’t leave you here alone. We can never swim alone, can we?”
“Yes, yes.”
I took him to the cabin on top of the hill.
It was 5:06 pm, and I crossed my fingers that our doctor’s office was still open. It was. The first step was to double check that Middle had had a tetanus shot.
Indeed, he had: it was a standard immunization at the four-year checkup, which was just a month ago. I wasn’t sure the wound looked that bad. Grandma was the one who administered the immediate first aid, and Middle was a little reluctant to let me get a close look, so with a paper towel firmly pressed over it, we rushed to the nearest urgent care facility.
We had 25 minutes of company, just the two of us. He told me about his favorite Thomas and Friends train (James the Red Engine) and which Mighty Morphin Power Ranger was the coolest (Red Ranger, of course). We laughed at some of our favorite quotes from the book: “Pass the rolls!” (from a toddler devotional book) and “Do you like my hat?” (from Go, dog. Go!) also had a lively discussion about “The Poopoo Book” (All are popes)
There was a good amount of waiting around when we got to urgent care. We read four books, and I admired the Lego castles he built.
The medical staff is impressed by Middle’s striking good looks and adorable charm. In the end, he didn’t need the kind of stitches he needed, but I don’t remember if he had surgical glue or adhesive strips. In any case he waterproofed his knees before enjoying the beach, pool or bath.
He milked his wounds for everything: limping, hobbling… “Will you take me, mother?” he asked plaintively. He looked up at me, blonde lashes glinting over his sky blue eyes. I could not resist. “Okay, honey,” I bent down and lifted all 46 or so pounds of her and rested her on my hip as I approached the desk exit. Dang, he’s heavier than the kid!
As we checked out, the receptionist was going and how handsome and charming he was. I agreed with him, “Yes, I am concerned that he might use these qualities to get away with things… As if she wasn’t already: wide angel eyes and a missing top front tooth (which she knocked out during a coffee table accident) made all the more endearing to me even when she was mischievous.
On the way home, we speculated about dinner and whether there would be any ice cream left. Regardless of the inconvenience and expense of this side trip for urgent care on our already frugal journey, the value of the undivided time we spent together was immeasurable. I was a single mother with three boys under the age of five. My attention was fragmented.
But that night, for a few hours, Middle had no one to compete with. I realized that when maternity leave was over and Grandma returned to her home across the country, I needed to plan a routine that included special, one-on-one time with each of my sons.
