This week I learned that a simple popsicle can cure even the most extreme fat lips.
As luck would have it, CK was struck by an unassuming, and very excitable dog, only to spin about 180 degrees before gracefully face planting on the pavement. Blood was quick to spew from her mouth, although nothing looked broken or out of place. I picked her up and rocked her until she stopped crying. We were going to survive, bloody jackets, tissues, pants and all.
That’s when it hit me. I’m not your typical mom, or person for that matter.
My neighbor raced over to see if she was ok (being that the dog’s owner was oblivious to its actions), and I sort of froze. He asked if I needed help getting her home. I remained statuesque. All I could think was, “what do you think I am, a MOM? I have no idea what to do about bloody fat lips!” So we remained there on the pavement. My logic was such that, better to be surrounded by a group of adults with input, then to go home, and be stuck by myself with only MY instinct/experience to guide me. (Let me give you some perspective here: I’ve never even had so much as a bloody nose.)
Within a minute or two the bleeding stopped, and a HUGE fat lip emerged from tiny CK’s face. And just like that she was whisked away by Bonnie, our neighbor and one of her favorite people in the world, for a doggie poop walk.
A little while later when everyone who was outside and had witnessed the event was calmed by the sight of my child talking and acting normally, we decided to depart.
Call it mothers instinct, but I knew the second my child started shoveling cheerios in her mouth on the walk home, that she was just fine. No one would eat so recklessly if he/she had just seriously injured her face. (Unless…no, I’ll just pretend she didn’t inherit the eat through the pain gene from me!)
Seeing as no ER trip was necessary, I couldn’t help but think of a solution to the fat lip that would help, and be conducive to a 2 year old’s comfort level. Thus, the Fudgsicle came into play. We got many a look, and even a few comments, as we strolled through Giant, the brown popsicle dripping all down her face in the middle of winter.
The swelling had gone down, she was content, and so was I, mission complete.
Maybe I really am a mom after all…
I will say, I’m totally ok with her being a huge Daddy’s girl!