Yesterday we traveled to visit the extended family and help one of our cousins celebrate his high school graduation. The kids were not exactly thrilled to be there, mostly because they fell asleep on the hour and a half drive up there.
But they eventually warmed up to it. There was plenty of snacks and food, after all. And there was a big backyard with a swing and bubbles and chalk and balls and lots of people to help entertain them. They came around.
We also learned that one of our sons has an extremely high threshold for pain. We actually suspect it of all of them, because none of them are quick to cry over things that appear physically painful. Xander definitely proved the point where he is concerned.
The bad thing about big gatherings is that we as parents often take for granted that someone else is watching the kids, whether it be the other parent, a favorite aunt or uncle, or a fun-loving cousin. Part of you just takes a deep breath, especially when you're around family, and thinks you can have a little break from the constant need for supervision. There are lots of people there to keep them out of trouble.
I was in the kitchen, doing who knows what. Someone called from outside on the back porch and I started that way, assuming the kids were still safely in the living room munching on M&Ms (our first bribe of the afternoon, provided upon arrival to help with their crankiness) with Josh. That's where I'd seen them last. He apparently assumed they were following me outside.
And they were. Through the kitchen, crowded with people and overflowing with hot dishes on the stove top and casseroles fresh from the oven. My two boys, one of whom has lately shown a fascination with stoves and ovens, were making their way through the kitchen largely unsupervised. There were people in there, of course, but no one who was actively watching them.
Xander apparently touched something, or at least we suspect he did. He never cried or screamed or in any way indicated anything was wrong. He merely came to the back door and held his arms out for me to help him down the steps, which I did. And then he took off, ready to play.
About half an hour later, as I was sitting on the backyard swing with my good swinging buddy (if there's a swing, trust me, Sawyer is going to be in it). Xander came walking up and climbed into my lap. So we sat there, just swinging and watching all the activity around us.
That's when I happened to look down. I was rubbing on his hands as he sat in my lap and just happened to see something strage on one of his hands. At first I thought an allergic reation or a bug bite. In that quick glance, I only saw red and puffy. When I turned it over, I knew it was something more. There was a large blister about three inches long and an inch wide at the base of his thumb on the left hand (you know, that perfect grab position). It was a burn blister, and not a pretty one.
Even me looking at it didn't bother him. He eventually squirmed away and just started playing again. He didn't hold out his hand to have it kissed, as Connor would have done. He didn't hold it out screaming or crying, as most normal children would have done. He simply went on like nothing had ever happened. He played, without even really favoring the hand. He picked up balls, put pressure on it when he was pushing or pulling things, and just acted like everything was fine.
Yeah, I would have been screaming and crying and begging for cold water or ice (or maybe both) if it had been me. Not a word. No screaming or tears. Nothing. And that's kind of scary. If you don't feel something like that enough to be bothered by it, what will you feel? Stomach ache? Broken bone? Like I said, a bit scary.
But all seems to be well. The blister actually popped at school today, so he's beginning to heal. Not that he's noticed mind you. Still running and jumping and playing. Like it never even happened.