Boys That Go Bump in the Night

Poor Ryan did a number on himself last night. He turned and walked straight into the corner of a wall that sticks out near our steps.

Isn't it pretty? And that's after we applied ice.

We followed the instructions for head injuries in the handbook from our pediatrician and, since Ryan wasn't really showing any symptoms of a concussion, sent him to bed at his normal time (with the plan to wake him up every few hours.) Of course, by "sent him to bed" I mean "allowed him to climb into my bed and snuggle with me."

After about an hour and a half I woke him up - or at least as much as I could.

"Ryan, how old are you?"

"Five."

"What grade are you in?"

"Kindergarten"

"How many cats do we have?"

"Three"

"Who am I?"

silence

"Ryan. Who am I?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't know."

"Ryan. What's my name?"

"Mrs. Wallace."

Well, he got three out of four after being woken up from a dead sleep and being only half concious.

Duane got a similar set of responses when he woke Ryan up at 2:30 - except Duane didn't get called Mrs. Wallace!

Ryan got through the night just fine, and woke up this morning in a pretty good mood - until Wesley started vomiting and he realized big brother was going to "get" to stay home all day with Grandma. He was also afraid of going to gym class because he was afraid he'd get hurt.  I had to drag Ryan out from under the dining room table to get him to get his coat on and he cried the whole way to school. So there I was, dropping my child off at school with tears streaming down his face and bruise on his forehead. Yep, just call me Mother of the Year.

I texted Ryan's teacher to let her know about the bump/bruise and about the tearful state. She assured me that she'd get him in shape and, sure enough, he came home from school in a great mood. Now I just have to dig out a helmet for him to wear around the house.