“Aw, look at the two of them holding hands,” my friend exclaims, as Tadpole and my friend’s younger daughter – both dressed in gauzy pink fairy costumes – walk ahead of us with her dog, their feet crunching on the gravel. Her elder daughter catches them up, and the three advance together as one, picking up speed. The sun is shining, although it has no real force yet. I feel more relaxed than I have in weeks.
“This weekend’s done me so much good.” I quicken my step as the girls round a bend in the track and move just out of our line of vision. “It’s so nice to get away, and lovely to be in the countryside…”
“Well you can come whene…”
She is cut off mid-sentence by a chorus of wails. We sprint forward, expecting to have to mediate for the twentieth time that day between three squabbling fairies, or, at worst, to tend to a grazed knee. But when I see Tadpole’s face, I am horrified.
The blood gushes. I don’t know, at first, where it is coming from. She has the mouth of a vampire in a gore movie. Blood pours down her chin, soaking her pink dress, turning it a vivid crimson red. The metallic taste makes her gag and spit. Blood drips onto the gravel, soaks into my t-shirt, and huge droplets spatter my jeans and trainers as I hoist Tadpole into my arms and stagger back to my friend’s house, mercifully close.
Parking Tadpole on the kitchen counter by the sink, I hold a cup to her lips and she rinses her mouth. Her teeth all appear to be intact, although there is a nasty cut inside her cheek. But the worst thing, the thing I can barely look at without gagging, is the split in her upper lip, on the right hand side. A deep slice exposing dark, purple flesh, like raw steak.
We arrive at the small injuries unit in a nearby town twenty minutes later and I lead Tadpole, still dressed in her blood-spattered fairy outfit, into the reception area. “The St Albans fairy chainsaw massacre,” says my friend wryly, leading her two little fairies inside. I manage a weak smile, but my hands are shaking and I feel nauseous and light-headed. While my friend does everything in her power to prevent Tadpole from catching sight of her face in the huge mirror next to the children’s toys, I speak to the lady at reception. It is all I can do to form a sentence, and I find myself unable to spell out my daughter’s name – my brain isn’t functioning well enough – so I scrawl it illegibly on a piece of paper. I explain we were supposed to be flying back to Paris in three hours time. That, plus the fact that Tadpole’s appearance is going to give everyone in the waiting area nightmares for weeks to come, bumps us straight to the top of the list.
“How did this happen to you?” says the nurse to Tadpole, shining a light in her eye. I’ve already given my explanation, and open my mouth to repeat my story before I realise with a sickening jolt that she is cross-examining my daughter on purpose, to eliminate the possibility that it was I who caused her injury.
We emerge, ten minutes later. Tadpole shows everyone the “I’ve been brave” sticker the nurse gave her, which she has slapped onto the front of her blood-spattered dress. Her lip wound has been gummed closed with surgical glue, and I pray it will hold. I glance at my watch: we have just enough time to nip back to my friend’s home, change out of our ruined clothes and grab our bags.
On the plane, Tadpole spies drops of blood on her shoe.
“I’m sorry mummy,” she says, stroking my forearm. “I did spit on our clothes and I did make a terrible mess. I didn’t mean to. It’s all my fault.”
“Oh gosh, it’s not your fault my love,” I say, mortified, “It was an accident. And I don’t care about any clothes! Mummy is only sad because you have a bobo she couldn’t fix. I try to keep you safe, and sometimes I don’t manage to. You were my brave little girl today…”
When the seatbelt signs go off, Tadpole raises the armrest and lets her head fall into my lap. A few minutes later she is asleep. I stroke her hair, my hands still shaking, and try not to worry about the fact that drowsiness is one of the concussion symptoms mentioned on the leaflet the nurse pressed into my hand as we left.
about
books
press
fbk
petite anglaise 
A Very Scary Mummy Moment to be sure. I was just a bit older than Tadpole when I did myself an injury on a swing that I won’t go into but which also required 3 stitches and much crying and screaming on my part. My mother, a registered nurse who has seen far worse things, was still just as upset as you were — when it’s YOUR child, there is no neutrality. No one wants to see her child with more than a light scrape on the knee, right? I think you did just fine under the circumstances. And fortunately she’ll mend.
Comment by The Bold Soul — April 23, 2007 @ 1:58 pm
Having to be all calm and collected isn’t easy. I hope she gets better soon.
Comment by Maureen — April 23, 2007 @ 1:59 pm
Is all well?
Comment by birchsprite — April 23, 2007 @ 2:02 pm
I’m glad to hear she’s ok.
Comment by Zerlina — April 23, 2007 @ 2:08 pm
Tears run down my cheeks as I imagine your horror and your little girl’s. I remember so well the first bloody injury of my firstborn, a girl, a wound in her chin, the result of a raised cement freezer slab combined with plastic high heels on a three year old. She is sixteen now and other than a tiny scar underneath her chin she is none the worse for wear. Sending you good thoughts and quick healing from across the pond.
Kaycie
Comment by Kaycie — April 23, 2007 @ 2:10 pm
Doubtless you’ve heard it a thousand times, but you do write beautifully well.
Puss
Comment by Glamourpuss — April 23, 2007 @ 2:17 pm
you gave me flashbacks to a snipe hunt and my youngest brother attempting to run through a barbed-wire fence – which cut his lip similarly. IIRC he had 3 stitches, but healed beautifully. (nice that they can use superglue now)
Tadpole will be fine, and is probably less scared than you are.
Comment by Alice — April 23, 2007 @ 2:24 pm
Oooh how scary. My heart was in my mouth as I read that. I hope your nerves feel better and that poor Tadpole soon recovers! She was so brave bless her!
Comment by Hannah — April 23, 2007 @ 2:29 pm
Oh no! How did she do it?
Stickers saying ‘I have been brave’ or something to that effect are always the soothing upside of childhood injuries though, aren’t they. I remember the day I slammed my fingers in the door of a 1936 Rolls Royce (they have doors that put Fort Knox to shame) when I was around 5 or 6. It’s strange how the agony subsided when the doctor presented me with a He-Man sticker..
Comment by David in London — April 23, 2007 @ 2:32 pm
Awwww…little Tadpole…what about the SOS medicins? I know they have it here in Montpellier, too. I guess when it’s a little child, you don’t want to wait until they arrive before getting help. Poor little sweetie, hugs from the Sud…
:0(
Comment by Mlle Smith — April 23, 2007 @ 2:35 pm
Once upon a time… I was 4 (it was long, very long ago, you see) I was crawling on all four, minding my own business (involving several toys strategically sparsed on the kitchen’s floor) and my mom was doing her best for not crashing anything as she was hurrying for getting ready for work…
…she stepped on my right hand. Heavily. Blood gushed everywhere, one of my little fingers was looking really funny… you don’t need any graphic description, I guess. What I remember best form hat happened after is, the very instant I saw the look on my mom’s face, I quited sobbing and started comforting her my best, it’s nothing, mom, nothing at all…
Be sure that later Tadpole will remember this day – if she remembers it at all – as The Day Mom Said Her She Was Mom’s Brave Little Girl.
May I send Tadpole via internet the Special Soothing Kiss Guaranteed to Fix All Bobos my mother taught me the use of that very day?
Comment by Géronimo — April 23, 2007 @ 2:38 pm
that brought tears to my eyes- i hope it mends well, and a little scar will remind her of the day that mommy told her she was brave!
Comment by Eliza — April 23, 2007 @ 2:44 pm
Oh dear, this brought back memories of what happened to me when I was Tadpole’s age. Only I got dragged by the arm all the way to the hospital and yelled at again and again and again. Surgical glue wasn’t around back then so the doctor sewed me up, not very expertly it turned out as I stil have a small scar on my bottom lip. And my mother never stopped ranting and raving. As far as I can remember, my only crime was to fall flat on my face, as children do.
Comment by Ariel — April 23, 2007 @ 3:06 pm
Poor little tadpole. I hope she’s recovered well.
Comment by hellojed — April 23, 2007 @ 3:11 pm
Aie, must be horrible! I hope you both recover well! Sometimes we need more than a hug and a kiss to make it all beter… a bandaid and some friendly words perhaps? And of course knowing that all will be allright in the end :)
Comment by natacha — April 23, 2007 @ 3:23 pm
But how did it happen, did she just fall down? Is she ok now? Did the glue hold out? This is Tadpole we are talking about, I need answers right now!
Comment by Polly — April 23, 2007 @ 3:38 pm
You have touched on every parents’ fear, that as soon as your child is out of your sight, something will happen that you can’t protect them from. You told it well though, well-written.
Comment by Kurt — April 23, 2007 @ 3:43 pm
This is meant kindly Petite really – but perhaps a slight over-reaction? I am at my most neurotic when feeling a little low. Remember my posts when my youngest was puking for her country? Perhaps you need to relax more and you did mananage to catch the plane – which is some result gvien a British hospital! But Kaycie’s post?!! Jeeze. Tears runnign down her cheeks? Now come on. Trevor is going to have a field day…
Comment by Welsh Cake — April 23, 2007 @ 4:03 pm
“she is cross-examining my daughter on purpose, to eliminate the possibility that it was I who caused her injury”
Il est plus probable qu’elle ait été en train de vérifier la lucidité de la petite pour s’assurer qu’elle ne souffre pas d’un trauma crânien. C’est d’ailleurs cohérent avec l’examen des pupilles.
Jem – 12 seasons of E.R. and going…
Comment by Jem — April 23, 2007 @ 4:12 pm
I remember my beautiful 18-year old daughter, at the age of two, jumping off a table and biting through the flesh below her lower lip while I was nursing her baby brother. She was screaming in pain and fear at the blood and I couldn’t tell her that she’d bitten a hold in her face. I covered it with ice in a tea towel and we raced to casualty only to find it wasn’t an uncommon event. Within days it was healing well and if there’s a tiny mark now, none of us worries about it. I’d forgotten all about it till reading your post. These scary, heart-stopping accidents are inevitable, however hard you try to avoid them. They are not your fault and almost all children cope and recover very well indeed.
Comment by kath bell — April 23, 2007 @ 4:19 pm
Oh what a scary moment for you, I’m sure. I have experienced something similar, and it is not easy when you feel like you failed your child. Send Tadpole my best wishes for a speedy recovery!
Comment by Kuukie — April 23, 2007 @ 4:20 pm
I should point out that she is fine – although she looks awful – and will have to stay home all week because I can’t expect school to stop her leaping around, touching the scab/wound/glue or getting it wet. We popped into the Robert Debré hostpital today to get a second opinion, and they threw up their hands in horror at the use of surgical glue on a lip wound. More about that later, no doubt.
Comment by petite — April 23, 2007 @ 4:40 pm
I was a little surprised that they used surgical glue for a lip wound. Aside from the fact that you don’t want to run the risk of ingesting it, it is usually not indicated for use on that part of the body.
Comment by Dave of the Lake — April 23, 2007 @ 4:54 pm
It’s quite odd, but I feel slightly physically winded after reading that one. As a committed non-parent (shall we say), I also can’t work out why I find so many blog posts about parenting so compelling, whilst retaining such a low boredom threshold for “real life” parents talking about the subject in front of me.
Anyway, and more importantly, I hope that the wound heals soon.
Comment by mike — April 23, 2007 @ 5:03 pm
What a scare! I hope you are both feeling better now.
Comment by Beth — April 23, 2007 @ 5:06 pm
Awwwwww she is so sweet! I had a similar injury when I was 11, except that it was on the left side and required quite a few stitches. Likewise, I had to give an account of the incident to the nurse, much to my mother’s dismay.
Let’s hope it clears up quickly!
Comment by Ignorminious — April 23, 2007 @ 5:48 pm
Ooh! I am sorry for Tadpole! How did it happen?
Comment by Lost in France — April 23, 2007 @ 5:52 pm
Poor, poor Tadpole, but what a brave wee soldier eh?! Bless her cotton socks.
(I did wonder about the surgical glue used on the lip area myself…)
Comment by Princesse Ecossaise — April 23, 2007 @ 5:54 pm
Hope you’re both feeling better.
Comment by london gal — April 23, 2007 @ 6:22 pm
Totally understand your reaction, which is not an over-reaction at all, despite what some commenters might think. Facial wounds bleed alot and a wound to the lip is quite shocking. I know because my daughter had a similar injury a few months ago. She got three stitches by a facial surgeon and I kept her out of school for a week too. It’s really important that she should not pick at it. I presume she has a lot of swelling too. The docs recommended ibuprofen to bring down the inflammation and take the edge off the discomfort. Don’t worry, the swelling will go down after a few days and then it won’t look so bad. Get better soon Tadpole!
Comment by happyforyou — April 23, 2007 @ 6:27 pm
Please dont tell Petite that glue was wrong for Tadpoles lip. She is feeling bad enough! Come on commenters – be positive!
Petite’s Mum
Comment by petite's mum — April 23, 2007 @ 6:33 pm
Poor Tadpole. I remember the same thing happening to my eldest son when he was about the same age, he was running around the house with his younger brother and fell headlong into an armchair, I banned running in the house after that (much more dangerous than running outside, I think.) But I can still recall the horror when I realised that his lower lip was split. They did put stitches in at the hospital and it was agonizing, the doctor told me it was the worst place to have stitches because lips are so sensitive. It sounds as if surgical glue is a gentler alternative.
What a little sweetie Tadpole is, hope her lip gets better very soon.
Comment by Sue — April 23, 2007 @ 6:37 pm
I’ve been through many such incidents with 3 kids now 17, 13, and 8. Skin is resilient, children are as well, and your love for her, your caring nature is what caused that reaction. I think it’s the parents which don’t have such a reaction are the ones which are off. Bravo Petite for not fainting, for looking after your tadpole, for raising such a brave beautiful girl, and for making it up another inevitable rung of the difficult ladder of parenting. At the top, is a grown, beautiful woman like you! A great friend forever. I’m babbling.
Comment by beaunejewels — April 23, 2007 @ 6:40 pm
I’m sure surgical glue was a lot easier on the ears than stitches would have been.
Comment by Tom — April 23, 2007 @ 6:54 pm
There is no point wondering about whether or not glue should have been used. In any case, I’m sure the doctors knew what they were doing.
When it happened to my daughter, the first hospital refused to do anything at all for us because they didn’t have a facio-maxillary surgeon on duty, meaning a frantic dash to a major hospital on the other side of the city and a very long wait (4 hours) for the specialised surgeon to come out of an operation and give her the three stitches. All I could think of was if the long wait would be detrimental. Nobody even mentioned surgical glue, it might have been a much faster and less traumatic solution.
Now, a few months later, there is no scar at all and it is an experience she is proud to talk about.
I’m sure the doctors where you were did the best thing they could for your daughter and that everything will be fine. It’s always easy to say “you should have…” after things happen. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll heal very fast! Children’s bodies are amazing!
Comment by happyforyou — April 23, 2007 @ 7:00 pm
{Tadpole}
{Petite}
Comment by sprite — April 23, 2007 @ 7:05 pm
I put my mum through something similar about 15 years ago, and I’m still surprised every time I see the little scar next to my eye. Because all I remember is her telling me how brave I was.
Best wishes to you both.
Despina.
Comment by Despina — April 23, 2007 @ 7:09 pm
Poor little Tadpole.
When my daughter was 3 we were on holiday in Spain and she fell and gashed her chin open. I took her to a clinic in the nearest town as I couldn’t find a hospital and didn’t speak much Spanish. My partner stayed at the house with our son.
It turned out the clinic – in Benidorm – was set up for the casualties of drunken punch-ups rather than little girls with blood pouring out of their chins.
The chap asked me to hold her down while he injected her with a local anaesthetic, Hannah screaming and me trying not to scream along with her.
She had three enormous black stitches, which my nurse friend, on our return home, said hadn’t been used on children’s faces in England for years.
I was horrified and bought Bio-oil to minimise scarring.
Three years later she has a small white mark under her chin which you can only see if you’re looking for it.
Awful to go through at the time, but it turned out ot be the first incident of many… like a trip to casualty in France last summer, and a tannoy at swimming asking me to go to first aid where I found Hannah bleeding, from the lip this time.
How on earth she managed to swim into the side of the pool fast enough to cut herself I don’t know, and nor does she.
Comment by Beta Mum — April 23, 2007 @ 7:17 pm
I’m with Tom.
Comment by Kathleen — April 23, 2007 @ 7:32 pm
Oh, the same thing happened to my almost 4 year old in the same place (I mean, in his mouth, not St. Albans…)There are so many blood vessels gathered there, so even a little cut results in horrific amounts of blood. I had the same sickening jolt when the doctor asked him how it happened – one of the pitfalls of parenthood, sad to say.
Comment by Chris — April 23, 2007 @ 7:43 pm
My brother used to wound his upper lip spectacularly. He would look terrible for days. He kept no trace of it.
What a brave little girl.
Comment by marie-hélène — April 23, 2007 @ 8:05 pm
Petite,
I went through a similar incident with my 5-year-old daughter a few months ago. While at home with her dad, she was playing on the furniture and took a tumble, chin-first, onto the badly-maintained parquee floor in our flat. Her chin spit open, about an inch across, and required 7 stitches to mend. She was okay with the blood on her shirt, and holding the cold compress to her chin on the way to hospital. Once they started stitching, she screamed and we had to have her strapped down in the backboard contraption they have for back-and-neck injuries. She was fine once the stitching was finished. She needed a snuggle and a new t-shirt. No big deal. Scared the begeezes out of me, though.
Comment by Melissa — April 23, 2007 @ 9:10 pm
Poor thing! But she’s going to be the center of attention I’ll bet! Children are so facinated with that kind of thing–bandages, etc. A built-in show-and-tell. Hope she heals quickly.
Comment by Jennifer — April 23, 2007 @ 9:21 pm
All the best to Tadpole, I’m sure she’ll get better soon.
Comment by Leticia — April 23, 2007 @ 10:39 pm
Ooh, nightmare. Poor you and Tadpole. When he was about 7 my brother cut his head open three Saturdays in a row (in 3 different spots on his head) looking for moths under the stairs and so my father took him to casualty each time to be stitched up. On the third occasion they took my father to one side and questioned him – they thought he’d been beating my brother up!! We laugh about it now. And I’ve still got the scar near my eye from when my brother hit me over the head with a chair when I was 4. Our poor parents! I hope Tadpole’s lip is on the mend and not too swollen. The glue idea sounds very good indeed. Much better than a stitch.
Comment by Hazy — April 23, 2007 @ 10:41 pm
so did she trip or did she get whacked in the mouth with a magic wand? james fell off the top of a slide once and bit through his tongue – god, that was scary.(btw, a gp friend keeps lollies and ice cubes in her fridge to help reduce bleeding and pain in cuts to the mouth – she says it works a treat, and distracts the child at the same time)
Comment by rivergirlie — April 23, 2007 @ 10:46 pm
I thought the glue to be a great idea. No needle of numb-fluid, no suture needle trauma and out the door in time to catch the flight. Of course, who would expect French doctors to agree with any English medical treatment?
Comment by Old Dragon — April 23, 2007 @ 10:56 pm
Bless Tadpole, what a brave little girl! I hope she heals quickly..
Comment by Arcadia — April 24, 2007 @ 12:17 am
Like so many other parents, this reminded me of accidents and illnesses with my son.
You handled this very well.
Enjoy the week with Tadpole. Hope she looks better soon.
Comment by Diane — April 24, 2007 @ 12:35 am
As a soon-to-be parent I can understand your feeling horrible about it. I think back on all my injuries as a child (breaking my wrist roller-skating, slamming two fingers in a car door, to name a few memorable ones) and think that I almost couldn’t survive that if it happened to my child. But, when it happened to me–and when I think about it happening to me—it didn’t seem so bad at the time or later. Just part of growing up.
Comment by Cat — April 24, 2007 @ 12:54 am
Poor Tadpole (and poor you too). Hope she’s healing ok.
Comment by dongurigal — April 24, 2007 @ 3:24 am
Hugs and healing thoughts to both the Tadpole and her mummy
My little brother used to run around with his tongue between his teeth, causing the inevitable bitten tongue whenever he tripped, slipped, stumbled, fell or fought with his older brother …. in other words, pretty much every day …
Mum’s solution was to have blocks of frozen fruit juice in the freezer, and whenever he bit himself, she would hand him an ice block
Had the dual purpose of stemming the bleeding, and stemming the screams …
Comment by Boccadice — April 24, 2007 @ 4:00 am
Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Hugs all round, I think.
Comment by Zinnia Cyclamen — April 24, 2007 @ 6:01 am
I hope both of you will overcome this soon. I’m sure Tadpole will heal faster than you will! when my little one hurts herself I feel like it’s the end of the world… Love
Comment by Zeina — April 24, 2007 @ 6:24 am
Hey honey
Jeez, what a nightmare! Well done to both of you for handling it so well. I hope Tadpole is feeling better now and still proud of herself cos mummy said she’s been a brave girl.
I must say that I agree with Tom, Kathleen and Old Dragon in that;
(a) Surely the glue was much less traumatic and painful than stitches would have been; and
(b) How typical of French doctors to immediately throw up their hands and “ouh la la!” at the treatment offered in an English hospital.
That is just a typical reaction from them (I’ve experienced it myself but I won’t bore you with the details) Basically, you can guarantee that even if the UK hospital had done everything exactly the same as they would have done it here, the French docs would still have found something to tut about. It’s almost a Pavlovian reaction on the part of the French…
So don’t let it worry you. Little legs will be fine, you did everything right and the UK hospital found a way to close that nasty cut without sending her (and you) into total hysterics. If anyone is at fault here, it’s the French hospital. They ought to be ashamed of themselves for causing you even more anguish in their haste to slag off the NHS. Silly sods!
Take care hon and here’s a hug for both of you {{{Petite & Tadpole}}}
Love
Oh PS, to those wanting to know chapter and verse about how it happened… are you the same people that slow down to rubberneck at car crashes on the motorway? Sorry if that sounds harsh, but surely it doesn’t matter how it happened, the point is that a child was injured but now she’s getting better. Let’s stick (no pun intended!) with that for now, shall we? Also, I’m sure if Petite was willing to go into all the gory details right now, she would have done so. I know curiosity is a natural human trait, so scuse me if I’m speaking out of turn, but I had to say something….
Comment by Nix — April 24, 2007 @ 8:12 am
I actually don’t really know as I didn’t see the actual fall. The girls tripped, holding hands, so clearly didn’t break their fall with their hands as they normally would. Tadpole fell on her face – the only part of her with grazes, the other little girls were fine.
Whether she cut herself on a sharp piece of gravel, or a stray piece of glass, or whatever, I don’t know, as she was already moving towards me and I didn’t linger to find out the what and why, I just wanted to get her home and fix her up…
Comment by petite — April 24, 2007 @ 8:57 am
I remember my mum saying any time I was hurting, that if she could, she would take away the hurt. Now I am a mother, I understand completely. There is NOTHING worse that watching your child suffer, and mums are often in a worse state than the kids, who are often proud of showing off their “bobos” when the trauma has subsided!
Get well soon, both of you.
Comment by Amanda — April 24, 2007 @ 9:04 am
Scary.
As a parent you just experienced our secret Fear. Being close and not be able to protect our little treasure. But those things happens and will happen again ;(
2 weeks ago was on weekend on the wild with cousins and, arriving on a zoo, cousin’s little devil son jump on a couch ok so far then sudenly fell and wound his head on the side of a chair … Total time in zoo : 35sec Distance i was of him : less than 50cms !!
That’s quiet hard to be parent especialy dad of our 2 years old… I sometimes think of myself as a Body Guard ;) 1m90 of muscle always behind the little treasure….
Take care of Tadpole and cheer up : sometimes it’s just impossible to do something. You’ve done the best you could. And head do bleed a lot : it’s just a lot scarier than it’s really is.
Comment by Thierry_J — April 24, 2007 @ 9:07 am
How awful, but I’m pleased for both of you that they didn’t subject you to the ordeal of stitches. You can’t put a butterfly plaster in your mouth so, in my humble opinion, the hospital did the right thing. What really matters is that she is on the mend – if a bit fragile for the time being.
Hugs to you both.
Comment by sablonneuse — April 24, 2007 @ 9:07 am
To those who’ve been criticising the superglue, it’s fine for lips. The only reason the French doctors would have been sceptical is because it’s best applied to a very dry wound, and lips aren’t dry because they bleed profusely. But given a little extra care to ensure the bond sets, and you’re away, up-up-and-away in Petite’s case.
(Yes, the skin superglue is cyanoacrylate like normal superglue, but it is mixed with different ingredients so that it doesn’t sting as much.)
Comment by Damian — April 24, 2007 @ 1:51 pm
I still remember my first trip to the urgent care with my toddler. After they tended to her they ended up tending to me – for blacking out.
It is difficult to have nerves of steel when your most precious doll is bleeding. It’s times like these I pray to channel someone strong and calm.
Comment by Tammi — April 24, 2007 @ 2:03 pm
My third child was in a car accident aged four, and she had a cut lip, which they stitched. She had other injuries at the time, so I didn’t give the lip treatment a lot of thought at the time, until later, when they had to remove the stitches. Stitch removal from the lips of f four year old is painful. Glue is much better!!
….And now she is twelve, you can’t see my daughter’s scar at all……..
Comment by Sally Lomax — April 24, 2007 @ 2:56 pm
You poor things…. and since we’re on the subject of bloody mouths… I was back home in the USA one summer with my boys, and my then-5 year old came running across the lawn and fell — when he got up blood gushed from his mouth so quickly… he had clamped his tongue with his teeth, and the tongue being a large gooey muscle, well… having no access to a hospital at that moment, my husband ran to the neighbor (we heard he was a doctor) — he was a podiatrist… but his advice was good if this ever happens to anyone… a popsicle ! You can’t bandage a tongue and it eventually stops bleeding, but popsicles were a godsend… and children’s asprin of course… popsicle kisses to tadpole…
Comment by magillicuddy — April 24, 2007 @ 3:14 pm
Hospitals while on vacation are wonderful, aren’t they? I remember one August 15th we went up to Fecamp for the day. Daughter got her lip cut by a dog that jumped up on her and son got his face in the way of a galet de plage (thrown by his sister). At the hospital, he too got the interrogation… He looked like he’d been in the boxing ring…
Comment by JChevais — April 24, 2007 @ 3:31 pm
gah, how terrible. get well soon, tadpole — and i continue to be impressed with your ability to handle every situation life throws your way, petite.
Comment by franko — April 24, 2007 @ 3:32 pm
Yes, being a parent can be real bad for your heart at times. Sometimes I can feel myself growing older as a direct result ;-)
That said, you made a very moving post out of her adventure. Chapeau, again.
Comment by ontario frog — April 24, 2007 @ 4:44 pm
Having been unable to locate the huge stain left by the pints of blood that surely must have been shed at the crime scene (yes, I did go back and search the lane!) I was assured by the big one that the offending article was a man hole cover with raised metal squares on it’s back. Ouch! That might explain the neat cut.
Healing hugs and kisses xxx
PS We now have ‘bobos’ in our house!!
Comment by Prawn Cocktail Crisps — April 24, 2007 @ 8:02 pm
I myself was thrown through the windscreen of a Ford Cortina which suddenly came to a halt when I was around four. I’d have been OK if it hadn’t been for a Bedford minibus (probably for the mentally retarded) which ran over me as soon as I hit the ground. I’m serious.
I still remember the incident all too well and have lived to tell the tale.
Comment by Trevor — April 24, 2007 @ 8:32 pm
Poor Tadpole, get well soon. And hope you manage to get a truly relaxing weekend sometime soon.
Comment by Kate — April 24, 2007 @ 9:07 pm
I know how you must have felt. I have been in casualty many times with my second child who seems to be accident prone and don’t you just wish you could take the pain instead of them…welcome to the beautiful world of motherhood…hope all is well
Sylvie
Comment by Sylvie — April 24, 2007 @ 9:47 pm
Poor wee Tadpole – and poor you!
Get well soon waves are on their way to the French shores.
Comment by teeweewonders — April 24, 2007 @ 10:10 pm
Well done Petite, sounds like you kept your cool. Having ended up in what is now our local A&E 3 times, whilst house hunting, they recognise us when we go to the kids hospital next door for routine appointments. Kids are toujours casse-tête, souvent casse-pied, mine was casse-dents, 4 times in 18 months. Overheard one of the nurses – ‘no, they don’t need social services, they’re English!
On a lighter note, have we now discovered the reason for Trevor’s quirks?
Comment by j — April 24, 2007 @ 10:19 pm
Gosh!
Bon retablissement!
:-)
Comment by Karma — April 25, 2007 @ 12:40 am
If she has an uncomplicated healing process (ie, no infection), then I’d be surprised if she even had a whiff of a scar.
If she does end up with one…it’ll be teeny, and she can then tell a great story about the bar fight she got into when she was well below the drinking age. The other kids will think she’s tough. ;)
Comment by La Cubana Gringa — April 25, 2007 @ 1:49 am
Wow! I hope you are both doing better today. I was reading and had to do a double-back and read it again. I couldn’t believe it! Tadpole really is a trooper! Take care.
Comment by Anali — April 25, 2007 @ 5:04 am
Oh poor poor little Tadpole..
It is so horrible when our children are hurt – and there is blood…
I have been in the emergency room many times with my rambunctious boys and it doesn’t get any easier, even now though they tower over me. I am still their mummy and their injuries hurt me to the bone.
Good girls for being so brave xx
Comment by the domestic minx — April 25, 2007 @ 6:51 am
Brave girls. Hope she is feeling well. You did great – it is very difficult to be cool calm and collected when the little ones are in pain. And very good of you to reassure her that you do not care about the clothes – kids have a strange way of taking the blame on themselves. Please post if tadpole is feeling better…
Comment by Danny — April 25, 2007 @ 8:24 am
Jolly good. Not enough comments though.
Comment by backroads — April 25, 2007 @ 8:29 am
Oh no Tadpole,
I had, a similar experience with my 4 year old. Running away gleefully after feeding the ducks on a Sunday morning, she tripped on a raised flagstone. The scream and sob where unusually loud, indicating something more that a scrape. I ran to her, only seeing the pool of blood when I arrived. I carried her to the car and washed her mouth and finding a chipped tooth. I was still crying when I handed her back to her mother about 40 minutes later. She’s 5 next month, the chip is still there, and my heart sinks every time I see it. Although, at the time, my daughter was more interested in the possible arrival of the tooth fairy.
Well done to your brave little one, hope shes on the mend soon. And well done for keeping it together for so long during the event.
Comment by David-uk — April 25, 2007 @ 8:54 am
Trev love,
That explains a lot..
Comment by Welsh Cake — April 25, 2007 @ 9:15 am
I once saw a little girl whose both legs have almost been cut off in an accident – she was the only one not to cry because she did not feel any pain (schock, isn’t it)…
I hurt myself quite a lot as a child, in the wild 70ies, when children were generally left to roam the places :-) But one does forget and forgive…
Comment by alcessa — April 25, 2007 @ 9:52 am
I agree tha Tadpole sounds like a real trooper, and you, Petite, seem to have nerves of steel! You are definitely very strong and handle these kinds of situations so well. I know that as a mom you are required to do lots of things, but you just seem to respond to situations like this with such grace. And then you have such a great way of recounting it all back to us here, sharing the details of the moment and your own emotions.
I hope Tadpole is feeling much better and that all is healing well!
Comment by Alice — April 25, 2007 @ 10:20 am
It really gives you a shock when something like this happens. I remember when my youngest son was a baby. He sudenly jerked back while I was holding him and threw himself out of my arms onto the edge of a coffee table, splitting his head open, requiring a few stitches.
I can empathise with the shock you were feeling with poor Tadpole’s injury.
Comment by AussieGil — April 25, 2007 @ 10:48 am
Eww blood and gore – have to say I’m a complete wuss at stuff like this and passed out once when visiting someone in hospital much to their annoyance as I got more doctors and better care than they had. The nurse was upset though as she hoped I was a cardiac case – she’d just done the training and wanted to practice …
Comment by Mark — April 25, 2007 @ 11:57 am
That’s probably the most exciting thing to happen in St Albans since Princess Diana visited in 1990 :p Hope Tadpole is better now and holds no grudges against bonny Hertfordshire…
Comment by Christian — April 26, 2007 @ 1:59 pm
Oh non! C’est de l’anglais! En fait j’ai lu l’article qui t’était dédié dans le magazine “Glamour” et dans un article du JDD on dit que du bien de ton blog, j’ai voulu voir un peu mais je ne comprends rien (I don’t understand! lol) . Tant pis. Bisous et bonne continuation!!
Comment by Séverine — April 26, 2007 @ 5:54 pm
Tadpole’s apology made me cry at work :/
Comment by Kali — April 27, 2007 @ 12:27 pm