Boo Boos

First of all, let me state the underlying circumstances. Everyone is a little under the weather. I have some coughing, achy-ness. And the boys have the same thing, except that they are on the upswing of the virus or whatever it is. Basically, no one is really at their best. Also, Ryan had to get up earlier than he would have liked in order that we could take Bridget to work.

We stopped on the way home and had the breakfast of real men--7-11 hotdogs. I had one too though it is not on my diet. When we got home I started working on two of my bikes in the garage. My crankset was loose on the Lapierre and I needed to tear it apart and tighten up the bottom bracket and then re-install it. This took about 5 minutes. I then checked my other bikes and noticed my Fuji was suffering from a slightly loose crankset too, but I didn't have to tighten the bottom bracket cups on that one. Meanwhile the boys were out front. Jack was in the kids' Jeep and Ryan was riding the little 12" bike with training wheels. He currently has a 20" bike without training wheels and so he was just riding this one for old time's sake I guess. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to get hurt on his knee. We are talking one 1/8th of an inch gash that showed a little blood. It didn't ever drip or anything. Ryan came and asked for a bandaid. I told him no because it wasn't dripping blood. There also wasn't any surrounding damage and so I saw no need for it. I asked him how it happened. He didn't remember. But he wanted a bandaid. I again said no. I told him he was tough and didn't need it. Then the tears came and the screaming that he needed a bandaid. That just made me dig my heels more. No way was he going to get a bandaid now when the damage was so minor and didn't even know how it happened. We went round and round for a few minutes and then I told him that he could put some ice on it if he wanted. He stopped the parade of tears and asked if he could go get a diaper wipe instead. This seemed like a good compromise for some reason and I said yes. By the time he went up to get the diaper wipe the dab of blood was dry and all was well. Still the whole deal was silly. I guess I wanted him to toughen up, but in reality the bandaid was no big deal. I guess was cranky too.

Now everything is hunky dory. The boys are watching Scooby Doo and I am here on the computer. I am sure that our boys will toughen up over time, but I don't want them to be wussies or sissies. I know he is only 5, but I try to tell him that he is tough or whatever which rarely works. Oh well, the trials of being the first born. I have no idea what I am doing at each new stage nor can I remember what I was like at this age. I remember the teenage years much better, but at 5--not so much. I don't know if I was a crier or not. I mean I feel pretty tough now, but I don't know how I was back then. Nor do I remember what Mom's or Dad's reaction was for me at that age. If there was somewhere close to total recall it would make it easier for me to learn from the past. But then all those embarrassing moments would be easier to recall too. It is a no win I guess.