Toddler Tales: Bruises

Toddler Tales: Bruises

If I had a dollar every time my son came home with some sort of new mark on his body, it would qualify as a second income. I fell like I need to get him a helmet because he’s always running at things head first. Maybe that’s where the problem lies? He’s running all the time.

I learned long before I had my son the destructive lives toddlers lead. I am the oldest of five. Our “Cabooses” are twin boys. At age 2 they had their first black eyes. They were either running into door knobs, falling on the steps or into each other.

When Leo first started walking (AKA running) he tripped on his Gi-Gi’s rug. When he fell his forehead was perfectly aligned to the edge of her glass table. This was months ago and he still carries a dent on his forehead. This past Friday, he came home with a goose egg and a bruise from the crown of his head to the bridge of his nose. He isn't even phased by it. He falls down, fusses for a minute, gets a juice box and then it’s back to the running race.

Trying to justify all the bruises can be exhausting. In the back of my head I’m hoping no one thinks I clobbered my kid with a broom when they see the bruises in public. We have all been there. It can be because they are accident prone, everyone is clumsy, but for heaven sakes kid! I try not worrying about it too much. Especially since all of these bumps and bruises are like a right of passage in the toddler world.

I’m saying this talking about the accidental bruises. This doesn’t reflect my feelings towards the ones that were put there on purpose. For example, my son would come home with bite marks from one of the little girls at his day care. It was happening more than I would have liked. After talking with the babysitter and apparently multiple butt whoopings later, I took matters into my own hands. “Im going to bite you, the next time you bite Leo.” is what I told the little girl. Call me a mean mom, call me whatever, but no non-accidental bruise from someone else is not tolerated in my book. I will go into more detail about that incident on another blog post.

What I often wish is that the bruises would be somewhere else on him. Somewhere else besides the blatant center of my son’s forehead. So that I could have a chance of putting ice on it. I’m lucky he has hair long enough that covers some of it. Leo doesn't understand the concepts of ice packs, and I can’t put ice in a bag because he has some odd fascination with it right now. Some kids are head bangers, like Leo, or black eye kids like my brothers. There really isn't much variation from that. That’s something you never forget. As a parent, I now understand how my parents remembered the stories behind each of those bruises. Its like your life as a toddler are defined by the accidents you had. Some are stair tumblers, other are finger pinchers.

Bruises, some are ugly, some are small, some are large, and others can stir up conversation. Its a part of childhood, and to some, still a part of their adulthood. (I can admit I am one of those adults.) I’m just glad I can be there to kiss those bruises and try my best to eliminate them happening (as bad) as the time before.

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