I had my inaugural stitches experience of motherhood a few days ago and it was something else. Willa was literally JUST WALKING, tripped, and busted her mouth open like a gosh dang Cadbury Egg. This resulted in more blood than a Scandal episode, a trip to the ER, a handful of stitches, and some fractured little precious baby teeth. Man, it was traumatic, and required a solid visit to Chik-fil-A after for some serious Chik 'N sandwich and milkshake PTSD treatment.
Motherhood is SO crazy to me in these kinds of times. It's like, all of a sudden YOU are in charge if another human decides to break their tiny face open and their insides start escaping to their outsides. That's all on YOU, you mother. There was a moment there when a freaking 32 oz. of blood was pouring from her mouth when I thought to myself, "I need to call my Mom!" and then I was like "WTH is she going to do she lives in Utah which is a zillion miles away, plus YOU happen to be the mom on call in this situation so get some towels you flipping idiot." It was cray. But luckily, Willa happens to be a super champ and handled it all great so the Chik-fil-A damage afterward was minor and the stitches will come out in a day or two. Also, I still totally called my mom because MOMS.
Oh, man. Motherhood really IS a mother. Luckily, I've got myself a solid mom-niform in this flowy shirt and comfy booties and can take on whatever broken faces might be thrown at me. Yes, I realize that isn't the most pleasant metaphor but that's just #REALTALK, you guys.
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