Are you ready for some football?!?!

It all started Friday night, before Metro Youth Sports Jamboree. The preparations felt comparable to Christmas Eve! The boys and I shared such excitement, that I am certain none of us slept a solid hour, the entire night... 6AM, the alarm went off and started the day. There were mouth pieces to be boiled & molded, pads to be put in pants, deodorant to be applied in mass quantities.

At 7:45AM we head off to the beautiful Saint Francis University field. At 7:53AM Corey realized that he had forgotten his helmet at our house. One of my least favorite things about having multiple children: Something ALWAYS gets forgotten. (Isnt it enough that their heads are attached?!) So, I drop Corey and Cyle off with the squad and start my journey back to our house to obtain the forgotten necessities.

Caden, Chris and I returned in time to hear The National Anthem, and the speeches by organization leaders. Then the games began! 

Corey's squad had the third scrimmage into the day. Woot woot! Everything was going GREAT! Corey got his turn to play on that immaculate field; Which I would love to elaborate upon, however, football plays are all JapTalian to me. So, 2 minutes and 38 seconds left in the game, the announcer says "a player for the Chargers is being escorted off the field, bleeding". I look up from Caden, Cyle & Chris to see #99, MY CHILD, being walked off the field with a bloody rag to his mouth.

Naturally, my petitely challenged legs made moves faster than they have in YEARS. And the bleachers that I was running down, 3 sons in tow, seemed no match for my worried mother adrenaline rush! On a normal day, I would have fallen flat on my uncoordinated ass. Finally I was united with my crying, screaming, 11 year old baby.

I would soon piece the puzzle together that, "Why would he throw a helmet?!" were the words being cried through the mounds of gauze and ice pack. A helmet? My son was hit by a HELMET? WHY wasnt he WEARING a helmet... or the mouth piece we boiled just this morning?! Come to find out there was a player on the team that had an issue with his own helmet. So, during this child's turn in the game, he was instructed by a coach to borrow my son's. When the helmet was to be returned to Corey, a coach threw it to him. At which point it hit his bottom lip into two of his top front incisors, causing the teeth to act as a blade- scraping helmet paint into Corey's lip AND breaking the teeth in half.

After 10 minutes of cleaning, icing and calming, I was able to head for the emergency room with all four of my sons. But nothing in my life is ever as simple as my last statement implies. Yes. I said that statement appeared simple. For you would think that an injured child, and the impending trip to the ER with FOUR children would be enough excitement for one woman, right? Wrong. Three steps out of the stadium the most untimely, treacherous downpour began. And, of course my van was half a block down and across the street, in the overflow parking lot.

Corey, Caden, Cyle, Chris and I sloshed through the instant puddles and buckets of rain, into my van. I start it up, turn on the headlights and wipers, and get ready to GO. At which point I remember the driver side wiper needs to be replaced, as if it is WAVING at me, perhaps saying "have a nice day".

After driving 30mph the entire trip, we finally arrive at the hospital. We weren't in the waiting room long enough to get settled before Corey's name was called. We proceed back to an exam room with what appears to be a dentist's chair, for the patient and one visitor chair. Of course, I am not surprised that the room did not accommodate my family of 5. Who brings 4 kids into an emergency room, anyways? Oh ya. ME.

Note: Please excuse any misspellings in this next paragraph, because I have to fight the dry heaves as I type... Shortly after we were situated in the room, the boys' father showed up and took the younger 3 boys with him to the waiting area. Then the fun began. I got to watch, as my son had shavings of white helmet paint extracted from his marble-sized bottom lip. Then, a 3 inch needle injected into the wound and one single stitch laced.

I have to say, my son is a brave little man. He did not cry AT ALL. I, on the other hand, fought many tears. Not just because of his procedure then and there, but as I look at what used to be two perfect little permanent teeth in the front of his mouth. Teeth that I hope can be repaired on Monday, as soon as the dentist office opens... Prayers are greatly appreciated. 

So, if one were to ask me, am I "ready for some football", I would have to say that my answer is NO! I did not sign up for all of THIS!