I had an idea early on this morning of what I wanted to blog about tonight. I had plans with a girlfriend from high school this afternoon; she is down from Kingston and made time to come out to "the farm" to see me. I won't lie- I was primping for her. I cleaned the house and made coffee cake and fretted over my hair and outfit. And so of course, I was doomed to have one of those "nothing-fits-my-hair-looks-stupid" days. I settled for a decent outfit but couldn't find a necklace that went with it. My hair is in desperate need for some attention; its currently some quasi-shade of brownish red. I tossed it up into a messy bun and that was the best I could manage. I looked fine, but I felt...bad. I definitely didn't feel attractive, or polished, or well put together. Regardless, I was really excited to see Jane. An hour before she was due to stop by, I received a panicked phone call from Nick, "Call the dentist and tell him we're coming. Noelle had an accident at speech therapy and smashed her face on the cement floor." (Why does a facility made to treat children with mental and physical disabilities have concrete floors? Shouldn't that entire building be made out of Styrofoam!?) That was it. I grabbed the phone...and where the hell did we put the phone book? Did we even unpack it?? My hands were shaking and my inflamed heart was racing. I dialed 411 and waited for the number. Meanwhile, Dryden- oblivious to the situation and to Mommy's anxiety- picked that moment to saunter into the kitchen and pitch a fit. I yelled at him loudly and harshly and shooed him (and his confused, heart broken tears) away. After I called the dentist, I made amends with Dryden by snuggling with him on the bean bag chair, and waited for an hour to hear back from Nick. A very long hour.
Nick called back and said that we were being sent to CHEO. I scribbled a hasty letter to Jane and taped it to the door and arranged for Dryden to stay at my mother's. As I approached our car I got my first good look at poor little Noelley. Her carefully chosen top was stained brown, her mouth was outlined with dried blood and her lips were already blue/black, puffed out into a semi-permanent pout. All I can say is God bless the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario- they fit us in an hour earlier than booked, prepped her for for the procedure swiftly and without fuss, and removed her two front teeth in less than five minutes. Normally, I'm a hard ass. I have no problem holding the kids down for needles, blood work, and procedures. I'm not emotional- let's get it done now is my attitude. Today, I struggled to hold it together. I was weepy and very little help to Nick. I couldn't wait to get home and snuggle with Noelle on the rocking chair- I was a softy and didn't know what to do. Cuddling on the rocking chair, watching her sleep, I took a good long look at her bruised face and newly formed gap in the middle of her formerly perfect smile. What an idiot I felt like. I felt stupid for worrying about what to wear or that I needed a dye job. Right now I feel like this whole blog is sometimes stupid- me struggling to find a way to put myself first, to cling desperately to the person I used to be. I'm not first anymore. I would gladly wear rags and shave my head to re-do today minus Noelle's accident. I sometimes get caught up in the insignificant that I overlook the glaring obvious- I am lucky enough to be a mother and everything else pales in comparison.
After copious amounts of ice cream for Noelle and generous helpings of Pepsi for Mommy, Dryden came home and kissed "Wowelle's" bobo. I have good kids. I have a good husband who kept his cool while I played the cliche blubbering mom and he held Noelle down while her teeth were pulled from her gums. I also have good friends. I know Jane understands and forgives me for standing her up without even having to speak to her- that's why our friendship has survived so many years and so many miles in between. My much debated outfit is stained with blood and drool and I don't even care. Because at the end of the day, I already have a ton of necklaces and my hair looks just fine pulled back into the standard pony tail. It took a shitty day to remind me what is important here at the Pomainville house and I'm grateful for the lesson.
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