I would have posted earlier today. I went to bed at 5AM with the intentions of waking up at 5:45 bit my body said otherwise. Too much work to catch up on but I guess some things happen when they can.
Last night, around 7PM, I was catching up on a little work (ok, I was watching The Hangover 3) and Cydney came downstairs asking me to blow up a balloon. I did so and she was happily playing with it. In between laughs I kept an eye on Cydney throwing the balloon around the room. She tripped and her face landed on the corner of a glass desk. POW! Immediately I put my arms out because you could hear that the twack was a doozy. I put her in my arms and she’s crying her little eyes out. It looked like she hit herself on her eye, but the thud says she didn’t hit herself right on her eyeball.
After laying on me for a couple of minutes she picks herself up and I see that the tear coming out of the corner of her left eye is a reddish color. Oh no! I ask my nephew to get me a wet paper towel so that I can put a little pressure in it. Apparently, she hit the corner of her eye. I was relieved that was it. There was no blood in her eye ducts nor was her eyeball red. Thank God! I felt a certain way about seeing her hurting like so.
Eventually she continued to play with everything being okay. About an hour later she got fussy like she does when she’s uncomfortable. She requested to be picked up and within ten minutes she was out for the night.
As Cydney is getting older, she is becoming more and more prone to getting hurt and sick. Its still pretty new this idea because I haven’t dealt with her being too much of either. There’s a part of me that aches a little when I see her having some form of extreme discomfort. This must be the feeling that parents get when they tell you that you have no idea how much they love us. I’m slowly starting to get it. I hate the idea that other forms of hurt will come along, such as mental and emotional hurt that will result in some kind of permanent scarring. As a member of the human race for twenty-seven years, statistics and experience tells me that this is inevitable. All I can do is just be there though it and try to make it feel better.
There’s nothing I hate more in the world than the sound of my daughter crying in pain.
Single Dadventures 
it’s never easy as they get older, more mobile and more curious / adventurous. You gotta have your eyes and ears on them at all times, which unto itself is nearly impossible.
At least she’s ok though 🙂
LikeLike
This made me think of the trips to the pediatric ER when my then 4 year old broke his leg in a playground fall and a few months later smacked his forehead on the corner of a desk, requiring stitches. Scary, stuf, man
LikeLike
Put soft material around sharp edges. Thank you for being the man that you are. My son is your MH brother.
LikeLike