Super-Human Strength - Sis 1

My little boy, Bear, had a very busy day yesterday, which tends to rub off on my day, too.

Most of it wasn't really out of the ordinary. He did come to me after we had finished making cookies and the first sheetful was in the oven, baking.

With a huge smile on his face, he said, "Make mess." He grabbed my arm and led me into the kitchen to show me the accomplishment he was so proud of. I had forgotten to put the flour bin away and he had taken advantage of my absentmindedness. As far as messes go, however, that one was not much to be proud of. A bit of flour on the floor and on his face only took a few minutes to clean up.

Later, one of his sisters decided to wear her Halloween costume from last year. She also felt the need to have her hair ratted and a scar drawn with makeup on her face. Ratted hair and fake scars are pre-requisite to being a zombie.

While she was drawing her scars, Bear was drawing his own, with my mascara. He proudly came to show me his makeup and he was so excited about it that I let him keep it on.

Another sister was downstairs, dancing along with Angelina Ballerina and Bear went to join her while I made dinner. They were happily dancing when I went down there a few minutes before dinner was ready.

Just as I was unplugging the rice cooker, he came upstairs with a strange but familiar smell on his breath and a weird pink substance all around his mouth. I do not own pink makeup, so I knew he hadn't done another makeover. He asked me for a drink of water, which I gave him and then I took him back downstairs to see just what he had been eating.

I found that our big metal cabinet which holds most of the stuff, including medicines, that we don't want our kids getting into was not locked. There was an assortment of bright pink and white pills scattered all over the floor. There was also a beautiful finger painting done in selenium sulfate topical solution--the source of the strange smell.

Needless to say, I made a frantic call to Poison Control, which I have programmed into my phone and have used on several occasions, mostly because of Bear. They told me they'd call the ER and tell them we were on our way. Most reassuring.

I shooed all four kids out the door in various states of disarray and we drove quickly to the ER, where they said that Poison Control had indeed called and they were waiting for us. Bear was hooked up to a heart-rate monitor, which, from that moment, I was constantly reattaching to his finger.

I could see the doubt in the nurse's eyes as I told him that my two-year-old had opened not one, but three childproof medicine bottles. I told him that I thought he had probably just pulled really hard on the lids, as that is his strategy for opening all other things, including the mascara earlier that day.

"So....what?" he asked, "Does he have super-human strength?" I can almost hear the DCFS knocking on my door.

When the doctor came in, she said that we would need to stay for four to six hours so they could observe him. Thank goodness my husband was supposed to be off work in just over an hour and he came to get the girls when he got done. Entertaining four kids in an ER room isn't terribly easy.

We spent a long three and a half hours in the ER. But at that point, the doctor decided that there was no point in doing any more observing. He was obviously not having any symptoms of overdose. The only behaviors he was exhibiting were annoyance with having to be attached to a machine and curiosity about all of the other machines.

They never did tell me what they would have done if he did have symptoms of overdose. I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

When we got home, I started cleaning up the mess and decided to see just how hard it is to open the childproof caps without pressing and turning. I put the lid back on one of the bottles and pulled on it as hard as I could. It didn't budge. Then I gave the bottle to Bear. He took the bottle and twisted the cap slightly. It popped right off.

So, does he have super-human strength? No. He's just a little too smart for his mom. At least now I know who to call when I can't open the stupid things.