I have yet another chest cold (my fourth since school started - I seriously have no idea why I'm catching so many this year), and I went to bed early last night. Ben left for work this morning and kissed me goodbye. The kids don't have school today (parent-teacher conferences), and they were still sleeping, so I went back to sleep.
I woke up to the screams of my oldest three kids.
I opened my eyes, and Micah was all bloody. I was like, "Whaaaa?"
Turns out that the kids let me sleep in until 10:15. Which is reeeeeally unlike them. They're usually needing something at 7:30 or so. It also turns out that Dylan, in his ADHD-ness, somehow knocked the hall closet door onto Micah in some way (the hall closet has been waiting to be painted, sitting propped against the wall in our living room, for, oh, two months now).
Head wounds bleed a ton, whether they're big or small, so I was pretty calm while I cleaned Micah up. It was nothing. A little scratch, really:
It shows you how often the kids wound each other in our house, that this event didn't even elicit a response from my husband. :)
I remember, when we lived in San Diego, I had a friend who had two kids who fought all the time. They were a little older. Mine were toddler and newborn, so I was still kind of new to the mothering thing. I remembering them yelling and screaming and tattling all the time, and my friend just ignored it. Once, she said something like, "Yeah, if they're not bleeding, I don't even address their fighting. They need to learn to work it out." At the time, I thought this was kind of cavalier of her, but now, I totally see where she's coming from. If I rushed to see what was happening every time my kids fought, that is ALL I WOULD DO. So yeah, if they're not bleeding, I'm like, meh.