Today I had another heart in mouth experience. You know the type, all you mothers of boys. They come regularly, they just differ in the size of the heart that is in your mouth, that's all.
We took a picnic and set off to ride the motorbikes as you do on a beautiful day. The sun was absolutely shining down on us. We found a beautiful spot under a huge big rubber tree ("You should take a cutting of that!" my father said) and set up the table and chairs etc. It was beautiful. Before us was a really large paddock (ex polo field) that the boys can go round and round and round and round to their hearts content. Behind us was a muddy creek complete with a rope swing and a high descent. Every mother's dream really.
The girls (dogs) got into it straight away. Racing around behind the boys as they rode, till they were worn out and came and lay down on the mat. Then into the creek they went for a fossick, back up and onto the mat... the picnic mat... the mat for humans... yep! Now all wet, muddy and smelly. Wonderful.
Enjoyed a vegemite sandwich, some mandarins, some soda stream for the kids, a coffee for me, reading, knitting, chatting to The Big Man, and then it happened.
They come tearing past, having a race of some sort I would say. The Little Man decides to cut the corner and beat The Middle Man. Zooom.... off he goes and flies up a little hill, gets some air on the top, lands, fishtails, head first into the ground. The Middle Man meanwhile runs him over. OMG!
The Big Man and I are running over the field, when we see The Middle Man's head over the horizon of 'the little hill' still in helmet, carrying The Little Man to us. It was gorgeous. It was a real mother moment. As much as he really shouldn't have moved him in case of serious injury, it was sooooo beautiful and brotherly to just scoop him up and take him to safety (us).
Turns out, he braked and didn't fully run him over, but enough to leave a serious red mark on his chest, and enough for me to take him to the local A&E to be checked. The Dr who saw us had
THE BLUEST EYES I HAVE EVER SEEN! So blue, I stopped my monologue about what had happened with a "Oh... I'm sorry, but your eyes are just so blue! My goodness!" (The Little Man said later that forever more that Dr will be known to us as "Blue Eyes".)
Then back to the issue of my son lying on the bed. He was fine, a little sore around those six-pack muscles that little boys are so desperate to develop, but on the whole, fine. Just as I had suspected, but one never knows and one does not want to wake in the middle of the night and find that one has made a bad judgement call, does one?
Home again, home again, ice creams for everyone, a bath with colours in it fixes most things, just like the old Band-Aid, and they are now all snug together watching Bewitched.
So, for the time being (perhaps it will last till the morning?) they love one another and are cherishing each other. Both of them were just shattered that it had happened and The Little Man wanted us to worry about The Middle Man because he felt soooooo bad about running his brother over. The Middle Man kept pushing me away when I neared him because he wanted me to check if The Little Man was OK. Everyone was concerned about everyone and the dogs just ran around like mental dogs getting in our way. Except for The Big Man – he just slowly and methodically packed everything away and bundled us all into the car and basically was our rock.
We are tired now. Sunshine, fresh air, vegemite, stress, it's debilitating.