September 20, 2006
bee my baby
I spent most of yesterday working on Another Mystery Project (no, no details! ha ha!) and assembling Charlie’s damn dinosaur toys (which, yes, DID involve joining some sort of club, so Anne you may want to e-mail me that letter right now because I’m going to need it!) and by the time it was time to go get the kids, my ass was starting to look like my desk chair, so I thought, Hey! Let’s go to the park!
You’re hoping my Mystery Project is better written than that sentence, aren’t you?
When we got to the park, there were quite a few other kids, but all little, like my kids, which is fine. The boys dug in the sand for a while and then got out their Army men and started to play with those. Henry went off to climb on some stuff (did I mention that on Monday he fell off the monkey bars at this VERY SAME park and nearly broke his hand? Yes! Indeed!) and Charlie came to ask me if he could go pee pee on a tree.
I hate the peeing-on-trees thing. I just hate it. And this particular park isn’t in my neighborhood, it’s in a much NICER neighborhood, and there were a LOT of people around and really, peeing on trees is just gross. So I said no.
He thought about this for a second and said, “Okay! Because I don’t REALLY need to pee pee! I was just asking!” Then he proceeded to do the wildest and most desperate Potty Dance I have ever seen.
I started packing up the toys and told the boys that in ten minutes we would go home. That’s ten Mommy Minutes, you know, which meant that in about seventy five seconds I was going to make the boys get their shoes and get in the car, because I really didn’t want Charlie peeing in my Accord. By now, Charlie has climbed up to the very top of the Big Castle and he and Henry are sliding their Army men down the big slide. I tell them they have just enough time to slide down and climb up and slide down ONE MORE TIME and then we have to go.
They are both very cooperative.
Henry chooses the fast way up, via the ladder, while Charlie goes around to the stairs. I’m standing at the bottom of the ladder saying, “Okay! Slide down! Let’s go!” and hoping Charlie won’t pee on the climber (it’s happened before!) when Henry starts to scream.
SCREAM. The loudest, most horrible scream I have ever heard. He is holding his head and SCREAMING and saying that he’s been stung by a bee.
Well crap.
I climb the ladder (in a skirt! did I mention that I was wearing a SKIRT?) and try to see what’s going on, but he’s just screaming and screaming. I finally get a look at his ear and sure enough, it looks like . . .
a bee sting.
Here was the fun part: while all the other moms are watching (because everyone seems to be pretty sure I have this under control but MY GOD the screaming!) I pick Henry up and CARRY him down off the climber. He is kicking and thrashing around and STILL SCREAMING.
Have I mentioned that Henry has been having some anxiety issues lately? And some little panic attacks? Why yes, he has.
Charlie (god love him, I need to buy that kid a pony) puts the Army men in the bag and gets his shoes AND Henry’s shoes and walks right next to me to the car. Once he says to Henry, “Henry, that must hurt A LOT.” I wanted to kiss him.
I realize that my knowledge of What To Do For A Bee Sting is, well, minimal, and consists only of CALL THE PEDIATRICIAN, but I can’t call her from the car because Henry is STILL SCREAMING and I’m having a hard enough time driving properly. (Henry: “You need to DRIVE FASTER, MOMMY!” Charlie: “But don’t get a ticket, Mama.”) I DO know that Henry really shouldn’t be TOUCHING his ear with his dirty hands, so I remind him of this over and over the whole way home while he screams “BUT I NEED TO TOUCH IT!” He actually SAT on his hands to keep from touching the ear. Maybe I should buy him a pony, too.
The entire way home, I pacify myself with the knowledge that Wade should be leaving his office ANY MINUTE to come home for an hour or so before he goes to his dinner meeting, so I only have a little longer to be alone with the screaming kids. I can totally do this.
At home, Charlie goes off to go potty (after announcing during a small lull in the screaming, “Mama, I was just JOKING. I really DO need to go potty!”) and informs me that he needs to pee AND poop and can I wipe his bottom? Henry sits down in front of the refridgerator, which is next to the cabinet where the Benadryl lives, and resumes his regularly scheduled screaming. I call the pediatrician but can’t hear the nurse when she answers because of ALL THE SCREAMING. And the polite requests for bottom wiping.
The upshot was this: Henry was clearly not going into any kind of anaphylactic shock (because who can scream when your throat is closing up?). I gave him some Benadryl (the MAXIMUM DOSE for his age and weight) and Tylenol (because, as the nurse said, WHY NOT?) and wiped Charlie’s butt and made a paste of baking soda and water and put it on the actual sting (and on Henry’s hand and Charlie’s arm and a couple of toys that were on the table, just to distract everyone). Henry apparently knocked the stinger out of his ear at the park, because I never found it, which was good (why is that, can someone tell me?).
I ran Henry a bath and told Charlie to go play with his new dinosaurs and sat down to take a few breaths. Wade calls to say, “I have a 5:30 meeting so I’m not coming home. What’s new?” I told him and he says, “I’m so sorry. Have a glass of wine.”
“I can’t,” I say, “because it could take up to TWO HOURS for any sort of severe reaction to appear, and I will need to be able to drive to the ER if that happens. Take your cell phone to your meeting, just in case.”
“In case you have some wine?”
“Yes.”
In the end, Henry had a very typical and normal reaction to the sting–his ear swelled to Elephant Man proportions and the skin around it got red, but that was it. He had more Benadryl at bedtime and slept all night and this morning when Wade asked if anything exciting had happened yesterday he said no. When I reminded him about the bee sting, he said, “That didn’t REALLY happen, did it?”
Oh, and this: at some point during all the screaming yesterday, Charlie took the glow-in-the-dark T Rex apart. And then brought me the pieces and said, “Will you put this together so I can see it glow in the dark?”
Grrr . . . .
(Oh, and–Charlie agrees that the dinosaur mobile sucks.)
Posted by Susan @ 1:04 pm • Uncategorized
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September 20th, 2006 at 1:57 pm, Jessica Says:
You want the sting out because even detached from the bee it is still mobile (GROSS) and can dig its way futher in (GROSS GROSS) and then, worse badness.
September 20th, 2006 at 2:51 pm, Melissa Says:
Oh, poor guy! Have you considered the possibility that Henry’s right– it didn’t really happen? I mean, if you think it did and he thinks it didn’t, this one could go either way.
Okay, probably not. But isn’t it nice that everyone could tell you had everything under control at the park? That’s like a gold star for mommy, right there.
September 20th, 2006 at 3:04 pm, adria Says:
I am so glad to hear Henry is okay and woke up feeling like the whole did not happen. I always wish that when Daria screams at loud volumes.
September 20th, 2006 at 3:09 pm, Plain Jane Mom Says:
On his ear? OUCH! And I can’t wait to hear the story of how you choose the perfect pony for Charlie!
September 20th, 2006 at 3:32 pm, Sheryl Says:
Oh no, poor Henry, bad enough he had to pretend the whole thing was a dream!
September 20th, 2006 at 4:06 pm, scribbit Says:
What is it with ears? My two boys were supposed to be getting their shoes/getting into the car and while I was still upstairs I hear screams echoing in the garage. When I went down to investigate, Spencer had slammed David’s ear in the car door. That’s got to be a World’s First. Didn’t swell too much, just black and blue.
September 20th, 2006 at 4:23 pm, Susan Says:
Ooooh, Scribbit, I started reading and I thought OF COURSE her son didn’t get his EAR shut in the car door!
And yet! There it is. Poor little boy.
Jessica, I want to know more about “worse badness.” Because I’m wierd like that.
September 20th, 2006 at 4:35 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
I’m so glad I don’t get that kind of drama around these here parts.
September 20th, 2006 at 5:13 pm, sarcastic journalist Says:
Duuuuuuuude. Time for some wine.
September 20th, 2006 at 5:34 pm, Granny Says:
Jessica’s right; just like a splinter, you don’t want it to fester.
Poor Henry. The first sting is always the most frightening and we’ll hope there is no second sting.
And brave, intuitive Charlie.
Do the ponies arrive soon?
September 20th, 2006 at 7:30 pm, M&Co. Says:
What is it about kids and getting stung in the ear? The BoyChild got stung by at bee last spring, on is ear too! Though there was lots less screaming because the BoyChild was afraid I would make him come in the house if he screamed too much. Which was true.
September 20th, 2006 at 8:29 pm, daysgoby Says:
I love your boys.
And the next time I get stung on the ear, can I borrow Charlie?
September 21st, 2006 at 2:33 am, nadine - scared of bees Says:
Poor Henry…
How’s he now? I hope he feels better already.
Thanks to this post, I got the idea to write a post on what to do if you get stung by a bee.
Hope that can help others…
BTW, I like the way you tell the story. Have bookmarked your blog so one day I can come again.
September 21st, 2006 at 6:05 am, Amy W Says:
Did you get to have that glass of wine??
Glad to hear he was okay…
September 21st, 2006 at 7:48 am, Candace Says:
Oy. How coincidental, though, that I spent about two hours on the phone last night with Laura (MIM) talking about anxiety and quirky kids and Christopher’s newfound insect phobia!
Bee stings suck. So does putting together 3-D glow-in-the-dark dinosaur puzzles, again.
September 21st, 2006 at 7:54 am, Tara Says:
My Mom and Dad always insisted we put mud on a bee or wasp sting. Yes, I know, that is probably not the standard protocol, but hey, it helped!
Henry and Charlie are darling and BRAVE!!
September 21st, 2006 at 8:04 am, Velma Says:
I used to be all, “Pfft - whatever. It’s just a bee sting.”
And then I got stung on my shin by a yellowjacket, and that sucker ached and burned for days! Poor Henry! Poor Mommy! And what a good Charlie you have!
Ponies for everyone!
September 21st, 2006 at 10:14 am, wordgirl Says:
WAit…you climbed a ladder in a skirt?? You thrill-seeker!
September 21st, 2006 at 1:16 pm, Kristen Says:
Man. It’s always SOMETHING. I mean, I’ve heard that phrase before, but until my kids were at these ages, I didn’t “get it.” This post sums up why I now do get it.
God, I hope you had some wine.
September 21st, 2006 at 1:43 pm, Lauren Says:
Good grief, that was funny! Your story telling is priceless. I love that your husband said “Just in case you have some wine?” Glad the ear is better now.
September 21st, 2006 at 1:49 pm, Julie Says:
I just found your blog and I will keep checking in. Why? Because I am also a transplant, from Chicago to an even worse locale than OKC, Shawnee! Looking forward to reading more about you.
Julie
September 22nd, 2006 at 1:03 am, nadine - scared of bees Says:
Glad to know that Henry is ok.
Answering your question:
Yes, using tweezers might cause more venom to go into the skin and injure the muscle.
Glad you didn’t use the tweezers.
September 22nd, 2006 at 7:09 am, Laura Says:
Glad Henry is okay today. Charlie is such a sweetie. Hope you finally were able to drink some wine.
As to the skirt climbing thing, when G was about 2 and S was a baby, G climbed to the top of a play structure in a Burger King and promptly had an Asperger’s freak-out about how high up she was, and wouldn’t come down. So I had to climb up there, through the tubes, etc. to get her. Did I mention I don’t like heights?
September 24th, 2006 at 7:08 am, Jeana Says:
Hi, Susan! I found you through Daring Young Mom and I am loving Fashion Fridays.
Oh, and it sounds weird but household ammonia works well on an insect sting, if you get to it fast before the venom spreads. My neighbor reccomended it, but I wouldn’t try it on my kid until I had tried it on myself because really it sounded like some kind of specialized torture. Then the day after he told me about it I got stung in my very own bedroom and there was my chance to try it out. Wasn’t that lucky?
Anyway, it totally worked. I dabbed some ammonia on the spot, it stopped hurting immediately and never hurt again. It really was amazing.
And I would add to Nadine’s advice that it is a good idea to have a general discussion with your kids during a time of non-stinging wherin you tell them that using the edge of a knife is a good way to remove the stinger, because if they don’t know this and they are screaming and writhing from getting stung and you start walking toward them with a knife, they might, MIGHT freak out even more, scream louder than you thought was possible and run for the door. Please don’t ask me how I know this.