Million was running quickly and not watching where he was going. He fell and bit his tongue.
I felt horrible. I still do, despite the fact that he has little boy scars and scabs all over his body from tumbles and spills. He's missing almost his whole fingernail on his right thumb, for crying out loud. I shouldn't feel THAT terrible. But I do. There is nothing like hearing your child wail and seeing blood to produce both fear and guilt. And knowing that we can't ice it because he absolutely hates cold sensations in his mouth (we tried a little ice cream on the plane, and he detested it. That's pretty typical for kids from our agency's transition home in Ethiopia.)
His tongue is perfectly fine today and is scabbed over.
Yesterday, though, he made the most of his injury. By sticking his fingers in his mouth and repeatedly inducing the pain sensation.
It was lovely.
We all had great attitudes by 2 p.m.
And then we had our international adoptee evaluation, which he behaved absolutely beautifully for until the blood draw. He didn't know enough to be scared of the otoscopes and laughed when the doctor was assessing his abdominal tone. He also liked the chest x-ray technicians. And he liked being able to choose a rubber ducky after the blood draw. He chose a hippie duck. That's my boy.
I'm not sure yet how much I want to share about Million's health conditions on this blog, so that's all I'll be saying about the doctor appointment yesterday.
I have to go get some lunch made while Million is napping. Hope you're having a great day!