Heaven Can Wait

On Thursday, I got a phone call from Adam's school. Adam had been playing during recess, and had been knocked down by a tether ball. According to the school secretary, Adam's teacher saw him pass out and he seemed a little groggy. They asked me if I wanted to come get him and possibly have him checked by a doctor.

Now, since this was third-hand information, I decided to assess Adam on my own. I asked to speak with him. "Hi buddy," I said in my most sympathetic momny voice, "are you okay?" "Um," said Adam, "a wittle okay." "What happened?" I asked. "Mommy," he answered in his most serious and pathetic little boy voice "I almost died."

Trying very hard to suppress my laughter, I asked him a few more questions and determined that he was okay. I asked the secretary to send him back to class with a note for the teacher to please keep an eye on him and to call me if there were any further concerns.

Just to be on the safe side, I phoned Adam's pediatrician, who turned out to be enjoying a day off. In lieu of Dr. Tew, I got to speak with the medical assistant for the other pediatrician in the office (I'm guessing she's close to ten or eleven, maybe eighteen years old). After explaining that Adam had gotten hit by a ball, and that he might have passed out, she said "Oh, you'd better take him to Urgent Care." "Okay," I responded, "I don't mind taking him, but I'm not really sure what they'll be able do." "Oh," she said "well, they can do a brain scan." Brain scan, hmm? Is that the proper medical term for this procedure? I realized I needed to speak with someone who was actually qualified to provide medical advice. In the interim, I decided to have a little fun. "Hmm," I said, "Do they really do that for getting hit with a ball?" "Sometimes," said the M.A. (I'm sure I heard air whooshing through her head). I replied "I'm not really sure an MRI or cat scan would be warranted in this situation, but if it is, wouldn't I want to take him to an ER? I don't think Urgent Care clinics usually have such equipment." "Oh no," she said, "some do." I requested she ask the doctor to call me back.

After speaking with Adam's teacher, I learned that he hadn't necessarily lost consciousness, just that he seemed momentarily groggy. Well, I would too if I took a flying tether ball to the forehead! I was glad we hadn't rushed him off to the E.R. for a night of brain scanning!

Later that night as Adam got out of the bath he slipped and hit his hip. It hurt, and he cried a little. After he stopped, he looked up at me through his crocodile tears. "Mommy," he said very seriously, "I almost died twice today."

Where does he get this dramatic flair? I can't imagine! I'm positive it didn't come from me ;-)

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By the way, the other team forfeited, so there was no soccer game today.

Also, we enjoyed (well, at least Adam did) our first snow of the season.

Yeah, what she said...

So, I don't remember exactly what scared our babysitter, Kami, but whatever it was she responded with "That scared the CRAP out of me." Adam echoed "Yeah, that scared the crap out of me too." My response was "Adam, you don't use that word. That word is for big people. You can say that scared the sillies out of me instead." "But Mommy," he said "It really did scare the what Kami said out of me."

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Adam had his third soccer game today (his first one in the rain). As a team, the "Blue Sharks" did really well. Adam was a little lackadaisical, but he did have an assist. We were proud of his efforts.

We spent the afternoon cleaning out the garage. It was gross. It's full of dust and little bitsy dead and alive spiders. While we were cleaning the garage, we sent Adam upstairs to change out of his uniform. He was taking a little longer than we expected, and we soon discovered why. We have this wonderful cream pomade that we sometimes use to tame Adam's cowlicks. He really likes it. It looks and smells a lot like Marshmallow fluff. Now, before you get worried, he does know better than to eat it. However, that did not stop him from putting 1/4 of the container through his hair (we usually use about a dollop the size of a quarter). We took pictures. I'll put them up when we develop them. Life is a thrill a minute here at the Hooten home.

It's not a game dad, it's a sport (now with pictures)

Where's the ball??? Who cares!!!

So, Adam had his first soccer game on Saturday. Let's just say I have no misconceptions about my son becoming the next David Beckham.

There are a total of 8 kids on each team, and half of them play while the other half sits out. Adam loves the uniform - loves putting it on, loves wearing it - feels like the coolest kid on the block. He also loves sitting in our camp chairs watching his teammates run around.

Once on the field however, his love for soccer ... dissipated. All the other kids on the field (seven besides him) were clustered around the ball, running after it, chasing it down, kicking it up the field, down the field, out of the field. Where's Adam? Calmly running around in little circles on the defensive side. Where's the ball? Who cares! Running around in circles was much more fun! After about seven minutes of circles, Adam lay down on the field. We're shouting "Get up, Adam, get up." His response? "Too much exercise." We finally convinced him to get up for safety's sake.

At one point, Michael was trying (hopelessly) to instruct Adam: "Run after the ball, try to get the ball -- that's the game!" Adam's response: (you guessed it) "It's not a game dad -- it's a sport."

My father (Grandpa Coach) told me not to worry. One practice and one game do not a soccer player make.