Tweezer Adventures

I have had two tweezer adventures this week, and have come to the conclusion that if there is one tool that is essential for all mothers to have, I think I'd have to say tweezers:

Adventure 1: 

Sean and his friend Ray were upstairs in the playroom, when Ray came downstairs crying.  At first I thought maybe the boys were fighting, but he had his finger up his nose and told me there was something stuck there.  I felt his nose, but didn't feel anything, and had him try blowing, but as Ray said, "Only boogers" came.  So I got a flashlight, and took a look, and sure enough something was up there.

As we were heading upstairs to retrieve the tweezers, Ray tells me, "Sean-o has something in his nose too."  

"Sean!" I called. "Do you have something in your nose too?"

He replied, "Yeah, but I'm not scared like Ray."

??  um, still good to tell your mom if there is a foreign object stuck in your nose.

So I brought those boys into my bathroom and had them lay on my lap.  Sean went first (since he wasn't scared, and I thought it might help Ray out to watch Sean undergo the procedure.)  With Arthur's special headband flashlight, (I don't know the official term) and my tweezers in hand, I was ready to go.  A few minutes later, the extractions were complete, and this is what came out of those boys' noses:

They are these random little lego pieces.  They were up there pretty good, too. 

 Adventure 2:

While I was teaching a piano lesson this week, Hayden (who is no longer napping, much to my sorrow) suddenly began crying and came limping into the living room.  I could see he'd gotten something stuck in his foot, but I couldn't really tell what.  Again, I went for the tweezers, but he was in a lot more pain than the other boys were and wouldn't let me get it out.

I decided to just hold him until my lessons were done, since we were almost done with the last lesson.  After my students left, I went to investigate.  I found a box of toothpicks had been emptied onto the floor, and concluded that he had stepped on one and that's what was in his foot.  It had broken off very close to the skin, so much so that it was impossible to grab even with my trusty tweezers.

I tried soaking his foot in salt water,  hoping it might draw out the toothpick enough for me to get a hold of it.  He hated the salt water, so that didn't last very long.  Then I tried again, multiple times, to hold him still enough to get the toothpick out, but he was just thrashing around and kept saying, "Don't get it out! Don't get it out!"

Finally, I thought to call my neighbors and see if somebody could come hold Hayden for me while I tried to get it out of his foot.  Simone, answered the phone. She is a darling and very tiny cheerleader, so I asked, "Is there anybody home who is strong enough to hold Hayden still for me while I get a toothpick out of his foot?"  She said, "Oh yeah, Olivia is here!  She'll be right over."  Olivia is a couple of years older than Simone, plays basketball and softball and yes, she is a strong girl.  Thank heaven!

When Olivia got  here, she held Hayden for me like a straight jacket, but he was still kicking his foot around and screaming, so for several very long minutes, I just kept trying to get a hold on that toothpick.  I'd just about given up when Olivia suggested trying to numb his foot with ice and the try again.  So we numbed it for a little bit, and then went back to the couch to try one last time.

This time, I finally was able to get a little bit of a grip on the toothpick stub.  I think it took me something like 2 eternal minutes (the minutes seem REALLY LONG when your little boy is thrashing and screaming his head off) to keep grabbing and grabbing and pulling it out little by little, until finally we got it out!  And it was at least 1/4 inch long jammed straight up into his foot.  No wonder, that little guy was crying.  I felt so bad for him, but once in was out, he felt soooo much better.  

Here is Hayden a day after his injury, and you can see the little red hole where the toothpick resided for almost an hour of his life.  He keeps telling me that his "owie is all better!"

I feel so thankful for Olivia, bless her heart, and for the good ole' tweezers!