You Can't Scare Me I Have Sons

So, the phone call starts like this,
Me: Hello
Youngest son: Hi Mom, how do I get blood out of the passenger seat of my car?
 I don't flinch or even miss a beat,

Me: Do I need to be looking for an attorney?
Youngest son: No, there was a small accident in the studio, and it's not my blood.

He explains, it involved a hole saw, a piece of pipe and a kids hand, and I won't give you the gruesome details, but it sounds like everyone is going to live.

It got me to thinking about all the accidents, mishaps and near crisis' we have dealt with over the years. Mothers of active boys learn that almost everything heals and panic has no place in dealing with the issue at hand. Much in the same way a new mother learns that having spit up running down your shoulder will not kill you.

Between the two boys we had:
a mild concussion (falling out of a shopping cart)--btw-I was exonerated of fault
a broken arm (bicycle)
a huge goose egg to the forehead (line drive baseball)
a myriad of slicings on the leg (bicycle and hack saw)
a broken tooth (waterslide)
a broken knee cap (baseball)
a torn acl (basketball)
a torn acl (football)
and other minor injuries far too numerous to mention.

The incident of the hack saw and the bicycle still makes me laugh.
I'm down stairs and hear the front door, younger son (about 6yrs old) comes down the stairs to tell me the older one (about 9yrs old) needs me to come up, I, in my most exasperated voice tell him to go tell his brother to come to me. He obediently heads upstairs and soon is back down, no mom,  he needs you up there, he says. I, not wanting to stop what I was working on replied unless he was bleeding he needed to come to me. He waited for a minute or two then said, well yes, he is bleeding. I go running up the stairs to see him sitting there with a towel and yes, blood (but not on the carpet, YAY!) Seems he and his friend were going to build a fort, so they got a hack saw and while he was riding his bike holding the saw every time his leg went up and down he was sawing his leg....yes, evidently this was before he had been given custody of his brain .....anyway, after realizing he had some pretty significant cuts he and his buddy decided their vast boy scout first aid training could fix it. They could not. So back on their bikes, sans the saw, to our house. After a trip to the ER all was well again.

Although the ringing of the phone in the night still makes me break out in a cold sweat (they are now 21 and 24) and probably always will, I've learned not to panic, to think through to the logical solution and help them carry their broken bones to the emergency room.

I do think mothers of boys will collect jewels for their crowns similar to the way a scout collects badges, and mine is gonna be darn sparkly.