It's an occupational hazard. Every parent will experience being hurt by their child at least a few in their lifetime, and can usually remember them in detail.
The following is my experience of what happens when your child hurts you.
Young children are often unaware of their strength and ability to inflict pain. But it happens, as any dad that wrestles with his kids and is accidently kicked in an area that not only brings him down but demands an immediate “time out” will probably tell you.
Moms are very aware of this too. Even babies will experiment with new teeth and bring breastfeeding mothers to instant tears.
Kids don’t realize the pain that they are capable of delivering. It’s just another thing that they need to be taught.
My situation involved a game of “throw toys down the stairs” gone bad. My boys are curious about almost everything and without my knowledge, decided to see what would happen when they threw various objects down our two-story staircase.
It was a half-day Friday. After collecting my older two boys from a short day of school, we went home for lunch and were getting ready to enjoy a hot day by relaxing in the pool.
Two of the boys were sent up stairs to get changed into their swim suits. But kids get distracted even when given simple directions.
I had no way of knowing that as they passed a pile of toys, they got an idea.
After a brief kitchen clean-up, I was walking towards the stairs with my seven-year-old with the intention of getting changed upstairs.
What happened next would have seemed nearly impossible even if it had been intentional.
One minute I was talking to my son and walking with him up the stairs, and the next moment, it was like the sky was falling.
As I reached the third step, I didn’t see the large, heavy plastic gorilla flying straight towards my head. It hit me directly on the top left side of my head and nearly knocked me out.
I dropped to my knees and buried my face in my hands as I cried instantaneously. It was the silent type of cry where your body shakes and it seems like minutes go by before you take a breath.
I couldn’t open my eyes but could hear my kids surrounding me. I heard the youngest one (the thrower) say multiple times, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
With each sentence, he began to cry harder when he realized that I wasn’t responding to him. My older two boys jumped right into emergency mode and ran to get ice packs and towels.
Within minutes, I felt the pressure of a soft basketball ice pack wrapped in a cloth pressing against the large bump that was forming on my head.
My youngest son ran to his room sobbing, with his brother running after him to console him. My other son stayed by my side, holding the ice pack on my wound and gently rubbing my arm.
It took probably 15 minutes for me to regain my composure. I stood up with shaky legs, a wet face and a massive headache.
I never had to say, “don’t throw toys down the stairs.” When I fell victim to that game, it was a day that all four of us will remember. No one has thrown even an article of clothing down the stairs since.
Just another occupational hazard.
Edited by Jody Smith