***WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS PICTURES WITH BLOOD***
Our Silas Arthur is full swing into being 2.5 years old. He's as masculine as they come, and all of the rumors are true about boys being more work than girls at this age (I think I'm qualified to say that). He's all trucks, trains and bulldozers, and his two key love languages (quality time and touch) combine to require almost daily wrestling matches.
I'm learning more and more that I can't take my eyes off of this boy for more than a minute. Last week was especially -- how shall I say it -- exciting. It started on Tuesday night. All of the kids were playing outside along with the two neighbor boys. I was in and out of the house, but was currently out in the road chatting with my two neighbor friends. It was around 8:30 pm, so I hollered to the kids that it was time to go in for bed, and we all went inside.
I looked around and noticed the girls had followed me in, but not Silas. I asked where he was, and the girls said they thought he had gone inside already. We searched the house with no trace of him, then went back outside to look. We couldn't find him. Pretty soon the whole neighborhood was out searching for him. He wasn't in any of the usual places.
After about 30 minutes of this, we called the cops. Someone from the Sheriff's offie came out and got his description. By this point I was thoroughly freaking out and the girls were all in tears. JP was in scared/angry mode.
We continued our search while the police got word out and was calling for dogs to come help in the search. It was around this time that one of the neighbor boys suggested that Rae check inside a couple old vehicles we have parked out by our pole barn. When she did, there was Silas, stuck inside one of the vans. He had somehow gotten in, but couldn't get out.
We all ran to him and collapsed in a ball of tears and prayers of thanksgiving. I get sick to my stomach when I think of how bad it could have been, and can only offer thanks to God for His mercy: it was a cooler evening, the car was parked in the shade, he wasn't in there too long, etc.
One would think that would be enough action for one week, but not with my Silas! Only two days later, Silas was wrestling with Rae upstairs in the living room. I was downstairs working on my computer. All of the sudden I heard a loud thump followed by a pause and then screaming. As a mother of 5, I don't automatically jump up when these things happen, so I waited for him to come down to where I was to show me what was wrong. He did, but when I nonchalantly looked up at him, I was startled to see blood (and lots of it) running down his face. Apparently he had hit his head on the corner of the coffee table and cut a big gash into head, just inside the hair line.
A closer inspection and some clean up revealed a pretty deep cut about an inch and a half long. I took him in to the emergency room and he ended up with five staples in his head. He was a trooper and barely fussed at all during the stapling.