Reilly's toe, after he dropped a brick on it

Life with boys.   This is the summer of the emergency room for Reilly and of gray hairs for me.   Reilly broke his hand in the beginning of the summer, and he just smashed the tip of his toe.  Being 13 year old boy can be dangerous to your health.

SOOO, what happened?  Reilly dropped a brick on his toe and chopped the top part of his toe nearly off and the doctors had to stitch the top part back on.  How did this happen?  My thoughts exactly, however the answer was anything but exact.

Me:  “What happened?”

Reilly:  “Ok, let me just say there were scissors near a brick”…

Me:  “and”…

Reilly: ”and…ok…and…there were these scissors and this brick.”

Me:  “AND”…

Reilly: ”ok…and…well…I had the scissors…and I know you aren’t supposed to play with scissors”…

Me:  ”uh-huh…keep going…and”…

Reilly:   “and so I put the scissors down near this brick.”

Me:  “ANDDDD”…

Reilly: ” Right…and I put the scissors down and then I picked up this brick that was near the scissors”…

Me:   “ANNNNNDDDDDD”…

Reilly:   “and then I accidentally dropped the brick and it landed on my toe and squashed my toe and blood squirted everywhere and I looked down and my toe was hanging in two.”

Me:  “Why did you have a brick and scissors?”

Reilly:  “To throw them in the pool. (duh)  Why are you just staring at me?”

Me:  “Just quietly crying inside for a second.”

Reilly:  ”Oh, and I might not have a toenail on that toe ever again and  if it does grow back most likely it will grow back sideways and deformed or all ridgy and gross for the rest of my life.  Don’t worry though, the doctor says I will still be healed in time to ride ALL the roller coasters when we go to Magic Mountain.   WOOO-HOOO!!!

Me:  “Well, as long as you can still ride all the roller coasters at Magic Mountain.  That’s what’s important.”

Reilly:  “Totally, that’s what I said.”

"I'll wait for you on the other side!"

A tractor, Lucas’ first true love.   T.L.A.   That’s 80’s high school speak for true…love…always.  Don’t believe me…get out your high school binders from the back of the closet.  T.L.A. will be scribbled somewhere in there followed by the name Chad, The Cure, and a hand drawn picture of a dolphin you were going to have tattooed on your ankle just in time for prom…not that I would know anything about that.

Reilly:  “Meggan, you were right…I did learn a lot as a 7th grader.”

Meggan:  (Puffed with pride)  “Reilly…good for you!  What did you learn?”

Reilly:  “Three things.”

Meggan:  “Math, English, or Science?”

Reilly:  “None of the above.”

Meggan:  (uh-oh)

Reilly: ”I learned”…

1.  “Don’t argue with 7th grade teachers because they are really tired and will pretty much always give you detention.”

2.  ”Don’t get mad at your older brother and punch a wall, because you will break your hand and have to wear a cast that smells funny.”

3.  ”Don’t light matches near a gas tank because it will piss all the adults of really bad and they will FREAK OUT and say you could burn the house down.”

Meggan:  “Well as long as you learned something.”

Reilly:  “I did!  I can’t wait for 8th grade!”

Elmo is a rock star in this house, everybody loves him.  An instance to score a personal cuddle with Elmo without interruption from a 2 1/2-year-old is a moment to treasure and protect.  Benny was giving me the “back away from the Elmo stare.”  I wouldn’t dream of interfering.

Me:  “Lucas, look…IT’S BIG BIRD!”

Lucas:  (points at television)  ”MAMA!”

Me:  “Ummmm, no Lucas that’s BIG BIRD.”

Lucas:  “MAMA!!

Me:  “BIG BIRD”

Lucas:  “MAMA”

Me:  “Lucas, Mama isn’t a big yellow bird.  Mama is a tall person…not a tall bird.  Mama is here, Big Bird is on Sesame Street on the television.”

Lucas:  (pointing at television) “MAMA!”

Sigh…At least he didn’t mistake me for Oscar the Grouch.  Silver lining.

TWO HOURS LATER

Harrison: “Hey Meggan, did you know that every time Lucas sees Big Bird on TV he says Mama.  Like right now….”

Lucas:  “MAMA!”

Harrison:  “Awesome.”

I could of gone my whole life without knowing how good Nutella is.  DAMN.  I didn’t even put up a fight.  Nutella 1 – My Ass and Belly 0

Where did everybody go?

Benny the puppy.  No matter how many times you tell them not to stick their head in the Kleenex box, they never listen.  Lucas came to the rescue and finally pulled the box off of Benny’s head, only to then pull out the rest of the Kleenexes and throw them on the floor.  They are a team.

In bathrooms across America I have no head.  The mirrors in bathrooms everywhere seemed to be positioned for 7th graders, the cast of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, every woman under 5′ 7″ tall, or Hayden Panettiere.  I have always said, “I am 5′ 10″ in a 5′ 7″ world.  The world fits perfectly if you are 5′7″ tall.  You don’t have bruises permanently raked across your thighs from forever walking into tables.  Door jams don’t pose immediate danger, you don’t have to yell “INCOMING” whenever attempting to enter a Porsche.  If you fall during co-ed soccer people don’t yell “TIMBERRRRR” (thank you high school P.E.) and you don’t check your make-up in the bathroom mirror at a gas station by having to stoop over, as the photo above illustrates.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being tall.  I am trying to wean myself off the self Hatorade so I am not going to sit around and stew in my height while I have two legs to walk around on.  Sure they are covered in bruises from slamming into things and there hasn’t been a pair of  jeans yet that seem to make it all the way to the floor.  I have been trying to make high-water pants cool since 1981.  It is a good thing I don’t have modest ankles, because those baby’s are never covered up.  My ankles bare it all to the world.

When I was growing up I was a gymnast.  Nadia Comaneci was my hero.  While other girls were slobbering over Barbie, or if you were on the early developed side Kirk Cameron from Growing Pains, I spent my days in a white leotard and braids convinced I was a Romanian Olympic gymnast, or Cher’s child that was put of for adoption.  I actually am adopted and I was convinced Cher was my biological Mother,  but that story is for another post.  Mostly I wanted to be Nadia, except that as other little girls stopped growing, I just kept right on heading North to 5′ 10″.

I didn’t mind being taller than say everyone, as a 7th grader.  Sure there were some awkward school dances, and the unfortunate comparisons to a zipper when I stood sideways and stuck my tongue out, but I had bigger worries…like my perm….and the also unfortunate comparisons to a microphone.

All was not lost.  I may of had to give up my dream of being a gymnast, or at least the first 5′ 10″ gymnast, but as one door closes another opens.  I ran track, modeled a bit and eventually filled out in proportion to my up.  In fact, when I was in my high school’s production of A Chorus Line my lovely and supportive gay friend Joel would assure me it was wonderful to be tall and my time would come…for instance his Dad saw A Chorus Line four times and Joel would tell me his Dad said I was the reason he sat in the front row every night.  I can only imagine. 

She stoops to conquer.

Ettore:  Sweetheart, where did you put the new toothbrushes?

Me:  On the kitchen table.

Ettore:  They’re not there.

Meggan:  They have to be there, I just bought them.

Ettore:   Well, they are not there.  You don’t think Lucas took them?

Me:  No.  There is no way he could reach them.  Besides, why would a two-year-old take toothbrushes?