A cautionary tale...

Christmas has really crept up on me this year. I've spent this past week finishing up shopping, getting ready for and helping out with Abby's school party, preparing and sending packages, and doing little holiday activities with the kids. I had every intention of posting about our Holiday Treasure Box last week for Fishful Thinking Thursday, but Thursday came and went before we had a chance to do it. Then I promised Abby we would do it on Saturday, but after standing in line at the post office all morning, checking out the model train holiday display at the botanical gardens (Noah loved it!), going to an interview for a possible Educational Specialist job (fingers crossed), and then dinner, baths, and playing a few more games on the Wii (an early Christmas gift/belated b'day gift from Gram. Pat was just as excited to get it as the kids were!) it was already bedtime.

But Abby was not going to let me out of this one. "Mama, you said we would do our treasure box today." She had been waiting do this treasure box activity all week. 

"I know, honey, but it's bedtime. We can do it tomorrow." (Same thing I'd been saying for the last three days.)

"But Ma-OHm, you said we would..."

I caved.

Instead of a bedtime story, Pat, the kids, and I sat in Abby's room and talked about things that we treasure or love and put some things in the box -  a picture of our family, the kids with my grandma, Abby drew a picture of the sun. Then I told her we could do more tomorrow, but now she and Noah really had to go to bed.

That was not what she wanted to hear. Being overly tired and a bit dramatic, she threw herself off of the bed, and suddenly let out a piercing scream. Pat immediately noticed that she still had her colored pencil in her hand. "My eye!!!" She's crying uncontrollably.

My heart stopped.

Pat and I are trying to calm her and look at what happened. Did she puncture her eye? Please, no. Please. Please.

I'm trying to stay calm and asking her, "Can you see, Abby? Can you see?"

I take her into the bathroom and see that the area just above eyelid is bleeding. The edges of the flat end of the pencil had broken the skin, but it's not deep and the actual eye looks okay. Still I feel nauseated, not only because I am squeamish, but because of how close she came to gouging herself in the eye. I felt sick inside imagining what could have happened.

After washing the area with a cold rag, she started to calm down. I put some ointment on the cut and tried to reiterate how we have to be so careful with pencils, etc..."You could poke your eye out."

I sounded like the mom from A Christmas Story.

I am just so relieved that she didn't ...and so very thankful.

No shooting Red Ryder BB guns or drawing with colored pencils at bedtime in this house. Thank you very much.

(Treasure Box post to come! I promise!)