And the Parent of the Year Award Goes to...

Not me! Why is it just when you think you're getting a handle on all the balls you're juggling your kids remind you that you're really losing your grip. Any thoughts you have that you might be on top of things is a complete illusion. If you think you're doing a good job as a parent, hold on to your hat, your kids are about to throw you for a loop.

This past Tuesday I had a plan for the evening. Famous last words. The boys were headed off to Cub Scouts, leaving the girls and I to a quiet house and a few chores. The girls decided they would take their shower before picking up their mess, but they wanted to use my shower. My poor husband doesn't actually own anything according to our kids. It's Mommy's room, Mommy's bed, Mommy's shower, Mommy's tub, even the car is mine. The truck and van are "our's", they belong to the whole family. Daddy gets the clothes on his back and the tools in the garage.

I made the deal and allowed the girls to head off to my bathroom while I caught up on some administrative work. Why the two of them like squishing into that small shower is beyond me. Five minutes later from the opposite side of the wall I heard terrified screams in stereo. Before I cleared the doorway I could make out the words "It's bleeding! It's bleeding!". The room looked like a scene from a B rated horror flick. Macy had jumped out of the shower and was frantically flailing her hand about, throwing streaks of blood on the walls and floor. Her sister was staring in wide eyed terror through the clear shower curtain. With out pausing I pulled a bath towel off the rack and pressed her hand tightly in it while guiding her to the sink. She was sobbing to hard to understand so I asked her sister what happened. Makayla pointed to my razor, which had gone from the top of the shower to the floor. "It fell." That's all I got.

Trying to pull off the towel to wash the wound was no good, there was too much blood pouring out to see anything. We switched to paper towels, but they soaked through in seconds. It was time to go to the emergency room. I sent Makayla to get dressed as fast as possible while I slipped one of my t-shirts over Macy, wet hair and all.  Makayla met me at the car wearing a yellow t-shirt sporting a  neon rainbow, navy and pink hand-me-down sweat shorts and chunky brown boots with no socks. She cut me off before I could say anything. "I was in a hurry, I grabbed the clothes on top!" What could I say, other than "Great job, honey."

It was a struggle strapping Macy into her booster seat. She was terrified of going to the hospital and apparently wanted the neighbors to know about her predicament. Trying to calm her down her sister and I sang church primary songs. She became less vocal, but no less scared. Halfway to the hospital I checked in with my husband at scouts. He wanted to know if I was sure she needed to be treated at the ER. Looking in the rear view at the napkin she had soaked through most recently, I was certain.

Wrapping her hand back in the bath towel I carried her into the hospital. If you want quick service with no waiting in an emergency room, carry in a crying child wrapped in a bloody towel. We were instantly taken back to a room. The nurse we had was absolutely amazing, she took great care of my baby and put her at ease. It turned out that only one finger had been cut. Yeah! I hadn't been able to tell because I couldn't get a good look at it. To Macy's great joy there was no sewing involved, only because there wasn't enough material to work with. Basically she peeled her finger like a potato. There were no edges to pull together and  there was nothing to clot, hence the continued bleeding. Using a special pad from the surgical unit that causes clotting and would seal off the wound, her hand was bandaged into a mitten. Special precaution was taken because if she bumped the injury and broke it open the bleeding would start again. Without the special sealant the bleeding could last for hours.

Maybe it was the twin connection, because they certainly never had time to discuss their story, but both the girls stuck with the "it fell" version for the rest of the evening. It was nice to see them stick together, but not against me! Both Caden and Makayla insisted on riding home with their injured sister and helping her get buckled into her seat. The one silver lining to the whole incident, seeing siblings show their love and concern for each other.

When her father carried her to the car that evening Macy told him really it was Mommy's fault. "It was Mommy's shower and Mommy's razor. She was the one who let us in there." Thank you Macy. I was already feeling the guilt of this incident, thank you for icing the cake. Should they have known better then to climb up and get my razor? Absolutely. Does that mean it doesn't need repeating from time to time? Apparently not. Does it also mean that I should be paying more attention when my girls are in the shower? Of course. So thank you Macy for waking me up and giving me a reality check, and for giving me a large dose of guilt to carry around. I've been so preoccupied with toting them around to activities and managing their school load that I'd started to overlook the simpler details of their daily life that keeps them safe.

Beware, if you're getting comfortable with how you're managing life a curve ball may be coming to knock you off balance. Would it take bloodshed to refocus your priorities?

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Harris Kids You've Got Talent!!

There are tons of reality TV shows scouring the country for talented fresh faces of all ages. They could really save a lot of time and just come by my living room...because my kids are supremely talented. I know you're thinking I'm biased since I'm their mother. There's nothing more annoying than the Mom that has the wonderfully talented and gifted child. Yes it's fabulous that little Susie could read at eighteen months and do trigonometry by the age of three, but do I have to hear about it every thirty seconds? By the way Susie just set the cat on fire you might want to check on that.


Back to my fabulously talented kids. Really their abilities rank on an almost mystical level that keeps me scratching my head in slack-jawed wonder. If they up their game any further I'm going to have to start looking for magical schools housed in castles in the English countryside in which to enroll them.


Whenever my husband or I travel at least one of our children will become sick. Now I don't mean they get the sniffles or a tummy ache, I'm talking high fevers, asthma attacks and projectile vomiting. The kind of illnesses that test a parent's mettle. I can't tell you how many times I've coached my husband over the phone from some distant location on what medicine to give and at what dose. Nor can I count the number of visits I've made to the pediatrician's urgent care hours while Grandma kept the healthy kids because Dad was away.


We can go months with no major illnesses, but print a boarding pass and you might as well buy the pedialyte. It also appears they are able to intensify their illness based on the complexity of the trip or difficulty of the family's schedule. Case in point, while Jay was on a four wheeler trip he had no cell phone service. The only way to reach him was when he called me collect from his cabin in the evenings. (I didn't know you could even make collect calls anymore, except from jail.) So with no way to reach him you can be certain that one of the children would test their abilities. Caden, our seven year old, had been on antibiotics for three days for a sinus infection. The morning after Dad left Caden spiked a fever and his death rattle cough became so excruciating no one in the house was sleeping. Off to urgent care went to find out my whiz kid had developed a secondary infection in his lungs after the sinus and ear infection, but the antibiotic appeared to be taking hold and would work well against pneumonia too which is where we were headed. An added steroid would help the crackling in his chest.


Super! We had avoided a hospital stay. Now it would only be eight hours until his father called and I could let him know. Maybe it was better this way, what he didn't know wouldn't keep him from enjoying his trip. He had prepared so well to make his absence easy on us, but how do you prepare for the terrific trio and their infectious talents?


I'm curious what talents do your kids have?