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Dealing With Injuries


homeschoolmom

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Big difference in "mothering" my two older children's injuries.

My eight year old daughter: Lots of hugs, kisses, sweet gentle affection. Do not discribe the injury (too unbarable!) Don't even look!

My 5 1/2 year old son: Just a teeny weeny bit of sweetness QUICKLY turned into making the injury sound as gross as possible... Asking if limbs have been hacked off or if guts are hanging out has been especially effective.

I will never understand boys....

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theculturewarrior

[quote name='homeschoolmom' date='Sep 30 2004, 08:42 AM']
I will never understand boys.... [/quote]
maybe that's why nobody understands mister peterson. :rolleyes:

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I was always fascinated by injuries as a kid, and in fact I still am.

My injuries always have a good story behind them. Like, I broke my arm once while breaking into a building, etc. ...

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theculturewarrior

[quote name='Sojourner' date='Sep 30 2004, 09:20 AM'] broke my arm once while breaking into a building, etc. ... [/quote]
:freak:









Oh, do tell.

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[quote name='shelly_freak' date='Sep 30 2004, 09:19 AM'] Oh, we just talked about how you're feeding into the males are strong females are sensitive roles. [/quote]
I'm not feeding into anything other than their personalities. My daughter is very easily grossed out (despite my attempts to get her to look, etc.) It just doesn't work. She gets mad if I "don't care" enough about her injury...

My son thinks it's completely hillarious that I suggest biting off his injured arm or perhaps looking under his shirt to see if his guts are hanging out. (I think he half believes in sometimes.) It's not because they are boy or girl (I've tried both techniques with each child) and I know what works for them.

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[quote name='theculturewarrior' date='Sep 30 2004, 09:24 AM'] :freak:









Oh, do tell. [/quote]
Yeah, so this happened a year ago, so I don't even have the excuse of being young and stupid -- I'm just stupid. Ha ha.

I was at homecoming at Taylor University; I graduted in 1998, so it was my 5-year reunion. I went with a friend of mine who's a little older than I (she graduated in 1991 or 2). My friend was an art major, and I took art classes, so we both have fond memories of spending late nights in the art building. Well, Taylor just built a new art building, and the one where we have all our memories is now closed ...

One of the things anyone involved in arts at Taylor did was break into the arts building late at night. There's a window in the basement that's never (or rarely) latched, and it was part of being an art student that you'd go in through the window if you had work late at night.

So, to recapture that feeling, we decided to break in through the window, just for old times' sake.

Now, you should know that I never broke in through the window when I was a student. I've long been a klutz. I know this, and was apparently wise enough when I was younger to have my friends let me in through the door rather than climbing in the window. I've lost that wisdom since.

I decided I would climb in through the window along with my friend. The predictable thing happened: I fell, landing on my left palm, and broke one of the little bones in my wrist. It was, in fact, the slowest-healing bone in the body, and I ended up being in a cast for about 3 months.

That's the story. :D

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Thy Geekdom Come

[quote name='homeschoolmom' date='Sep 30 2004, 09:42 AM'] Big difference in "mothering" my two older children's injuries.

My eight year old daughter: Lots of hugs, kisses, sweet gentle affection. Do not discribe the injury (too unbarable!) Don't even look!

My 5 1/2 year old son: Just a teeny weeny bit of sweetness QUICKLY turned into making the injury sound as gross as possible... Asking if limbs have been hacked off or if guts are hanging out has been especially effective.

I will never understand boys.... [/quote]
:lol:

I was actually more like your daughter... :unsure:

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Hey, homeschoolmom, I know what you mean. When I play rough with my little brothers, and one of them gets hurt, they're really mad, but it goes (something) like this,

"You ok?"
*li'l angry* "yeah..."
"You bleeding at all?"
*lil angry* "no..."
"Any bones broken?"
"no"
"You still alive? can you breathe?"
"yes!"
"Has your pericardial cavity been punctured?"
*chuckle* "No!"
"All all your arms and legs attached?"
"Yes!"
"Do you have any vertebra protruding from your back?"
*laughing now* "Noo!"
"You sure you're alive!?"
"Yess!"


Then you don't have to be worried about getting told on... ;)

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Thy Geekdom Come

[quote name='heyyoimjohnny' date='Sep 30 2004, 01:00 PM'] Hey, homeschoolmom, I know what you mean. When I play rough with my little brothers, and one of them gets hurt, they're really mad, but it goes (something) like this,

"You ok?"
*li'l angry* "yeah..."
"You bleeding at all?"
*lil angry* "no..."
"Any bones broken?"
"no"
"You still alive? can you breathe?"
"yes!"
"Has your pericardial cavity been punctured?"
*chuckle* "No!"
"All all your arms and legs attached?"
"Yes!"
"Do you have any vertebra protruding from your back?"
*laughing now* "Noo!"
"You sure you're alive!?"
"Yess!"


Then you don't have to be worried about getting told on... ;) [/quote]
:lol:

That's ingenious!

I've GOT to remember that!



Whenever I was upset as a kid, my parents said I looked like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes...you know, when he has the little storm cloud about his head...yeah..

They used to say, "don't smile. Don't smiiiiiiiiiiiiile. Absolutely no smiling. I'm making it a rule...no smiling! Don't smiiiiiiiiile. Don't smiiiiiiiiiiiiiile."

:)

I said, "don't smile!"

:rolling: :rolling: :rolling:

"What, now you're laughing! No!"

:rotfl:

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[quote name='Raphael' date='Sep 30 2004, 12:17 PM'] :lol:

That's ingenious!

I've GOT to remember that!



Whenever I was upset as a kid, my parents said I looked like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes...you know, when he has the little storm cloud about his head...yeah..

They used to say, "don't smile. Don't smiiiiiiiiiiiiile. Absolutely no smiling. I'm making it a rule...no smiling! Don't smiiiiiiiiile. Don't smiiiiiiiiiiiiiile."

:)

I said, "don't smile!"

:rolling: :rolling: :rolling:

"What, now you're laughing! No!"

:rotfl: [/quote]
My dad used to do that to me ... I stick out my lower lip when I'm getting ready to cry, and he'd call it my "birdie perch."

That usually worked, but sometimes it made me madder ... :rolleyes:

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