When I was a child, I remember the first time my mom let me walk to town. It was one block away, and in my small rural hometown of Beach City, Ohio, it measured less than a football field in distance. I had to cross one major road to get there.
"You have to look left, right and LEFT again," my mom said as she sent me on my maiden solo voyage to the store.
"Left, right, left, right, left, right...." I chanted turning my head continuously as I crossed just in case a sneaky car sped up in an attempt to run me over. Back and forth, back and forth, just to be sure.
Recently while turning my motherly head back and forth while protecting each of my ducklings across the road, my gaze got stuck on the poopy 2- year-old kid with the speech problems.
While my eyes were fixed on him, my oldest K got struck by a seizure.
Life has a funny way of doing that.
So we checked into the ER with our frequent shopper card, CT scan and blood tests proved to be normal, ruling out the real scary stuff like tumors and watery brains. We will see a pediatric neurologist in a week for more tests.
He is fine. And has been ordered to rest for 2-3 days, and he is clearly not a child that wants to rest. And he has two brothers that do not want him to rest.