That's right. Yesterday was supposed to be a nice, quiet day since the boys were sick. It was a beautiful day, so after lunch, I proposed a walk to the totlot. We loaded Wes into our jogger and were off. We got to the totlot, and happily played on the rocking horses and swings. And the boys asked me to push them (well... Carson wanted to be pushed. Wes just happliy swung.)
Higher and higher and suddenly, Carson's swing was going off to the side and as he swung back the back of his head slammed into the wooden pole on the side of the swing. I mean SLAMMED. It was awful. Like slow motion, but there was nothing I could do until it was over. As soon as I could, I grabbed him and pulled him off the swing. He screamed immediately, then the dreaded, long silent scream. Finally, he jumped out of my arms and ran like crazy in circles... as I chased him. He wanted to go back on the swing and up the ladder, but I knew not to let him. When I was finally able to pick him up again, he started telling me that his throat hurt. So, of course, he vomited--projectile and all over both of us. Which really upset him. When he was able to sit, next to Wes' swing, I called the ped.
Of course, we walked to the totlot, so I needed a ride home. I was so fortunate that a friend was home. We got to her house and her older son (5) stayed home with her younger son (2) who was napping. Deb drove us home, twice (I realized when we were home the first time that my keys were in the stroller in her garage.)
Went to the doctor and he checked out Carson. Everything was fine. We were really lucky. No sign of concussion, etc.
All night, everytime I closed my eyes I envisioned the slam. It was awful.
We're really lucky.
And, of course, this happens when Steve is away!
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