So I'm on recess supervision yesterday, and a little boy comes running to tell me that one of his friends is hurt. I ask him to show me where, and together we run to help.
A first grader is crouching on the ground, tears coursing down his cheeks. I can tell immediately that this is no ordinary injury. I crouch beside him and try to calm him enough to tell me what happened and where it hurts. At the same time, I survey the area in general and his body in particular. I am slightly comforted to see no blood.
He is inconsolable, and there is no way he will be able to explain how he was hurt. I ask the small crowd of children, mostly boys, who have gathered around if any of them can tell me. A tentative voice comes from a freckled face with huge orbs of brown earnestness, "The soccer ball hit him in a private spot."
Okay - suddenly all is abundantly clear...
I am at a loss as to what to do to help. I shouldn't be, though, should I? As the mother of three boys, this should be something I know about. But I don't. Only once do I remember having to deal with this type of thing in my twelve years of being a mother. When #1 was three or four years old, he was climbing a chain ladder on the playground. His foot slipped and he fell full on the chain - right between his legs. I was ready to take him to Emergency, but Main Man managed to calm both of us down with some ice - #1's was applied directly to the injury, mine was placed in a glass of Scotch.
Anyway, back to our current casualty.
I thank the little crowd for the information and for their concern, and I tell them to go play - I'll help their friend. I continue to crouch beside him, rubbing his back for comfort. He's not quite ready to walk inside the school where I'll be able to get him some ice. And I don't think he wants me to carry him.
The flow of tears eventually slows to more of a trickle. He turns to me and says, "I think I'll be okay." I ask if he wants to go inside, and he says he'll just sit and watch his friends play.
As I pull away, I tell him that I'll check on him in a little while, and he nods - a thank you, I think.
About Me
- Library Mama
- I am a mom, a wife, and a teacher-librarian. I have four boys at home: Main Man (44), #1 (14), #2 (11), and #3 (7). Although they keep me very busy, I also look after a library for an elementary student population of 500 (give or take). I love my family; I love my job.
4 comments:
When I played soccer as a boy...I used my butt to block the soccer ball (instead of my groin). That kid needed to learn his lesson.
You should have punched him in his groin and said, "walk it off!"
I think it is a guy thing to know what to do. Guys like there penises a lot and know what to say when it gets hurt. Next time pretend that someone is calling you and run away fast!
We were always just left alone when something like this happened. Or told to walk it off.
Not sure where the term walk it off came from but it doesn't sound right, tee,hee..
Hippo - Not sure your advice is completely sound this time. Don't think I'll try it. ;)
Barbara - Your advice sounds a little more to my liking. In fact, maybe I'll make a deal with the other woman on supervision with me to tag team each other. If this ever happens again, we'll call each other's names - and run fast!
H and B - good to meet you. Thanks for visiting my way. I know what you mean about , "Walk it off." Hah!
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