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Colder temperatures, chance of snow to return to the region this weekend

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Texas carries out first US execution of 2017

<p>Listen, we never want to see our kids sick or hurt.</p><p>What kind of mother would I be if I admitted that I used to secretly love when my kids were just a wee bit ill and needed me to be their nurse? Not a very good mother, but an honest one. I would get out the &#8220;sick-in-bed-tray&#8221; and serve them toast and ginger ale upon it, take their temperature (with just the back of my hand: ther-MOM-eter, and bring them either the popcorn bowl for their, umm, excess, or a box of tissues for their, umm, excess. They were so needy they silently and begrudgingly appreciated my nurturing love.</p><p>Fast-forward to now.</p><p>Stupid Santa brought my younger son a snow board. The last piece of Dollar General wrapping paper wasn&#8217;t even removed from that thing before he began texting &#8220;his boys&#8221; to join him for an inaugural woosh.</p><p>I was scared.</p><p>I was also scared when Santa brought him a skate board, a big boy bike, a scooter, and a Pogo stick, but if I kept these kids from doing everything that made me afraid, they would be sequestered in a padded room for the rest of their days, with a substantial and ongoing therapy invoice. (That&#8217;s still on the table.)</p><p>And so, he flew, board and bravado braced for a breathtaking time. Apparently, swishing and swerving through a trail with no helmet is just what&#8217;s done? Apparently, a novice snow boarder doesn&#8217;t need a stinking helmet. Apparently all the idiots forsake helmets.</p><p>What could I have done?</p><p>Stapled it to his head before he left? Called management and told them the little boy with the icky pseudo-stache and spanking new board can&#8217;t go down the hill to fetch a pail of water without a helmet?</p><p>Nothing. Nothing I could&#8217;ve done.</p><p>Hours later, he returned and proclaimed: &#8221;It was great, until I had a little spill &#8230;&#8221;</p><p>I screamed.</p><p>His face was bloodied and bruised, his nose looked broken, I feared a broken eye socket. If he didn&#8217;t look so pathetic I would&#8217;ve spanked him. With that stupid board.</p><p>So we sped to the emergency room.</p><p>And &#8230; it was fun!</p><p>I mean that seriously. Forced bonding! There was nowhere for him to run. He had to talk to me. Especially after they attached the neck brace. He couldn&#8217;t move. It was awesome.</p><p>We conversed more in that ER than we had all season. We chatted about his friends, my friends, his grandparents. We talked about his classes, what worried him (little) and what didn&#8217;t (much). I told him last time he was in a hospital was when he was born 10 weeks prematurely, elaborating dramatically about how he almost killed me. We talked about how his grandmother snuck into the sterile NIC-U at the time with decidedly non-sterile holy oil and got thrown out.</p><p>We talked about how he came home after two months, attached to a machine and I slept 12 inches from his bassinet for months. We talked about how lucky he was that he didn&#8217;t incur more snow-board related cranial damage because he didn&#8217;t wear a helmet. He needs all the cerebellum he can get, trust me.</p><p>What I really wanted to say in that ER was: &#8220;I love you so much. If anything ever happened to you, I don&#8217;t think I could ever draw another breath. Wear your damn helmet, don&#8217;t drink and drive, make good choices. I need you to take as good care of yourself as I did when you were 10 and had the Taiwanese flu.&#8221;</p><p>Home again, I tried to install the sick-in-bed- tray, but he said it got in the way of his Xbox controller.</p><p>As I left his room, I asked: &#8220;Can I get you anything, Patrick? A drink? Some popcorn? Skittles? Your childhood?&#8221;</p><p>And behind the closed door, I heard: &#8220;I love you too, Maria.&#8221;</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck of West Pittston is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: Emergency as a communication tactic works in this house