I love my son, Levi. He is absolutely adorable. He makes me laugh every day and he is so flippin’ smart. Every day, at only 15 months, he’s learning a couple new words. Last week I decided to make up a stupid new game called “Fly” where I pick up Lillian and fly her around the house yelling, “Woosh! Woosh!” She thinks it’s great and now wants to fly to the bed, to the kitchen, to anywhere. Levi, not one to be left out, came up the second day of the game’s existence, pulled on my pant leg and said, “Fwy?”
But this boy… this awesome treasure of a son… is the most dramatic creature on the planet. He puts teenage girls to shame. I recently learned just how dramatic he is at the doctor’s office for his well-check exam.
For the past few weeks I’ve been noticing these small, pin-prick sized red dots on his face, neck and chest. They come and go in a day or so and didn’t seem to spread so I knew they weren’t chicken pox or measles or anything like that. They were just… dots.
If I’m being totally honest and transparent, I was afraid I wasn’t washing his bedding often enough and the dots were some sort of skin reaction to all the milk, water, sweat, and dirt that can accumulate when he sleeps. Not even washing his bedding more often seemed to help which annoyed me since I could’ve put that extra domestic goddess work towards something else.
But I digress.
I’m not a worrisome mom, and I knew his exam was coming up, so I just monitored them and made sure they remained just small dots.
At his appointment I learned two things. One, he is as physically average as one can get. 50th percentile for both height and weight. If anyone wants to know what an average little boy looks like, I’ll send you a picture. The second thing I learned was the reason behind his mysterious red dots.
When I pointed them out to the doctor, he asked if Levi threw a lot of tantrums. “Oh golly yes,” I replied.
“Yeah… it’s pretty common, but they’re just burst blood vessels.”
Yes. My sweet little boy has such extreme tantrums that he is popping blood vessels.
“It’s like when you were in labor; you probably popped some, too, in your face and neck from all the effort and exertion of pushing your kids out.”
He compared the intensity of my son’s tantrums to CHILDBIRTH, you guys.
Have you ever heard of this? Only one person I’ve talked to on my Facebook page has.
If Lillian has the same dramatic emotions when she’s a teenager as Levi does as a toddler, I don’t think I’m going to survive. In 11 years, please send help. And donuts.