You might be a boy mom if your son shoves a red Lego up his nose in the Chick Filet drive thru.
I was in my own little world ordering a large Dr Pepper and a chocolate milk when Jackson started crying and acting hysterical.
Buddy, what’s wrong?
Maybe he wanted fries, too? I knew he was exhausted. He’d been wide awake since 3 a.m. (thanks ADHD!)
Through his tears I heard him say, Red Lego in my nose.
And I sort of panicked.
There I was stuck between a billion cars with no way of getting out.
It’s okay buddy. Hang on. I’ve got to get to the parking lot and I will see if I can see the Lego. Please do not sniff hard and suck that thing into your brain. WHY did you put a Lego in your nose?
After what seemed like forever and a few friendly It’s my pleasures, I whipped into a parking spot. I opened the back door and looked up Jackson’s nostril. I didn’t see a hint of red. I lightly touched the top of his nose and he let out a piercing scream.
Not touch my nose. That hurts.
Then I was a tad bit perturbed.
Um, we’re going to have to go to the hospital and a doctor is going to have to touch your nose. That’s the only way this Lego is coming out.
I hopped back in the car, called John and headed to Children’s Hospital.
As I drove I prayed (because Jackson and medical procedures are about as fun as having a stomach virus!)
Lord, please give me patience. Please flood Jackson’s heart with peace. Please let that Lego be within reach. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you that he was able to tell me what was wrong.
And that’s when it hit me – It’s all about perspective.
A year ago, my child with severe Apraxia would not have been able to tell me a Lego was up his nose. He would have cried and freaked out and I would have been left to guess what was causing his anguish.
Believe me, that’s exactly what happened the time he shoved a Bandaid up his nose. Thankfully I could see it and a pair of tweezers did the trick. What is with boys shoving things up their noses?
So yesterday I thanked God for words.
I thanked God for Jackson’s ability to communicate.
We made it to the ER and the the Lego removal was way less traumatic than the scenes flashing through my mind as we drove to the hospital. The nurse practitioner was fast!
Thank you Jesus!
Jackson was a tad bit ticked that four strong adults had to hold him down, but it was over in a flash and the Lego man hair was out!
As we drove home from the hospital, Jackson smiled and laughed like that Lego had never been lodged in his nose.
Buddy, I’m so proud of how brave you were at the hospital, I said.
It was scary. Shot in my nose.
It wasn’t a shot buddy. Just a long tool they stuck up your nose to get the Lego out.
Like a wrench or a hammer or a screwdriver, he said.
Um, not exactly, I laughed.
Mom, Legos not allowed in my nose!
I think we both learned an important lesson yesterday!