X-Lip Legacy


When I was little (three-ish years old?), I was in the car, I think sitting on my sister Anne’s lap if I’m recalling correctly. Passenger seat. And my mom had to make a sudden stop, and I whacked my face into the dash. Hello, lip stitches. With that, I earned the nickname X-Lip (very original, yeah yeah yeah).

Well, Pete has officially carried on the X-lip legacy, as of last week.

So let me just start by telling you about my Friday. We got a late start, so I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. Coffee to the face would have to do. Linus had a wellness visit at the pedicatrician’s office, over lunch hour, and it we waited awhile in the waiting room so lunch did not happen. I dropped him back at daycare, rolled through my deadlines at work, then ran down for a quick workout before picking up Linus at daycare at 5p. I didn’t have time to change out of my sweat-filled workout clothes (and the pants had a wee hole in the butt), but meh. Just picking up the boys then home, I could shower/change there. I also realized, about halfway between daycare and Pete’s school, that huh my stomach is growling and huh, I never did have lunch… I was going to pig out as soon as we got home, just had to make it to school first. Home stretch, almost done with the chaos of the day.

I parked in the street near Pete’s school and was getting Linus out of his carseat when I realized Pete’s summer camp teacher was standing in the door of the school and waving frantically while yelling for me to come quickly.

Oh, joy, that looks interesting. At that point, it’s clear he was hurt somehow, and from the flurry perhaps his head had fallen off. I grabbed Linus and hoofed it inside, to find Pete sitting on his old preschool teacher’s lap, frozen sponge/towel combo on the face, blood all over his shirt and shorts and legs. Tears streaming. Camp helpers standing around, some of the poor girls shaking from the adrenaline rush of whatever had just transpired in the last 10 minutes of the day. Oof.

So this is essentially what happened*

*Only his face was punched by the metal platform on a playground play structure as he fell into it, not by an actual fist. Same effect though.


They had cleaned him up a bit and looked at the damage, and filled me in: one tooth knocked out, another loose and chipped. Lip split open and gaping, one described it as a “big hole”. So clearly, we were off for Urgent Care. Pete’s preschool teacher Miss Theresa, who happened to come by just as the accident happened (she wasn’t even working at the time but stopped by after an appointment), offered to help me, which was nice as we had a terrified Pete and a hyper toddler to drag along. So off we all went, and Scott met us at Urgent Care to take Linus off our hands. We got him checked in and he had calmed down enough to try to chat up the staff at Urgent Care like his usual self. In-between games on the tablet.


After about half an hour or so they got us to a room and a doctor met up. She looked him over, then asked all the questions and finally asked me to come close so she could explain what needed to be done.

Now, let me just take a second to clarify: I am not a big blood person.  Blood grosses me out, to be honest.  Blood events give me the heebie jeebies, and I feel faint if I see it like, all dripping and stuff.  But hey, I have kids now, and they injure themselves in stupid ways a lot, so I have dealt with my personal, faint-spell-ish issues.  What I don’t like, though?  When every doctor that looks at my kid’s smashed mouth asks me to come over, then they proceed to push my face up close to his already-gaping lip wound and LOOK AT THIS, DO YOU SEE HOW THE GASH IS CROOKED, AND KIND OF DEEP, AND ALSO BREACHES THE VERMILION BORDER?

Sweet lord woman, no I don’t want to get up close and personal with bloody gaping things.  Especially when you pull it wide apart like that…

So anyway, the point: she was not comfortable doing the stitches to his face, it would be best if a specialist took a look at it and did the job, so their staff called ahead to get us a place in line and sent us off to the Am Fam Children’s Emergency Room.  Huzzah, co-pays for all the medical facilities today!

We got there. And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  It was a busy night so it took over 2 hours to get to a room, even with them calling ahead.  Pete was not allowed to eat or drink anything in the meantime, so it wasn’t pleasant.  However I have to say, his clotting skills are ON POINT, because his lip clotted right up while we waited.  Mostly just teeth bleeding at that point, which was minor.  So that was a nice break.

Finally we got into a room, a few different doctors came in to examine and make a game plan for stitches (and force me to look closely at that mess, yet again, NOPE NOPE NOPE), and then they sent in a nurse to administer the Good Stuff.  Pete had major anxiety, so best to just drug him to the gills before they do anything.  I can’t remember the name of the drug, just that it came in a convenient little pre-measured foil-top cup that reminded me of those pre-made shots you could buy in liquor stores.  He was so happy to drink something, he tossed it back with relish.

They came in and we all held him while they stitched him, poor dude the numbing cream didn’t quite work as planned so he still felt it a bit, but he was pretty dopey at that point and didn’t fight.  Once it was over we waited a little bit to make sure all was well (and the doctor called Pete’s dentist and texted her pictures of his teeth, which admittedly were pretty gnarly looking).


He was so high, you guys. So high.

He would watch videos on the iPad, then look up and tell us how SHOCKED he was! He thought he was on the couch, but he’s actually at the Dentist’s office! Duh! Ha ha ha!

Eventually we got discharge papers, instructions (including a request by his dentist to get into her office first thing), prescriptions for Oxycontin and strong antibiotics, and we were free to go. WOOT. Only, Pete was still completely out of it, and more aware of this fact now that the iPad was out of his hands. He could not even stand, you guys. Miss Theresa was still with us, and carried him on her back all the way to the car. He laughed and hammed it up, the entire way through the hospital corridors and parking garage.

Once in the car, he nattered on and pretty much got used to his new mouth situation. Kinda.

I dropped his teacher at her car at the school, at 11pm, thanking her profusely. Pete took the opportunity to tell her to HOLD UP I AM GOING TO CALL YOU A NAME, JUST WAIT, then called her a Silly Goose (uh, whew). Then off we went home, and Pete really let loose.

Not sure if the meds really kicked in, or he just felt more open, but he sang songs to me (one had Shut Up in it, which he sang with relish over and over), and he would make odd statements.

Like, Look at my fingers! Look at my fingers, mom! And he’d wiggle them for me.

Then he was all huh, did someone pull out all his teeth? Did he still have teeth?

Once home, Scott came out and carried him to the couch, where he was happy as a clam and stared at the TV. Which was not on. He informed us at that point that we were all living in a computer, and why was the TV doing that weird thing?

Then he did some other things that had Scott and I laughing but I cannot remember too well, because I was exhausted and still had to go fill his prescriptions. And so that was how I left him; Scott informed me later that he pretty much passed out within 5 minutes. And that concluded That One Time My Son Was Completely and Totally High, and I still kinda regret not taking video because it was pretty hilarious.

I went to Walgreens for prescriptions, and as I waited I walked the aisles. Because I pretty much felt like I would pass out if I sat down. Also, those crappy frozen chicken wings in the case looked holy shit goddamn good, omg. And then I realized: I had not eaten. I was still in my stinky workout gear, with the hole in the butt, and a messy pony, with a crooked “ER visitor” sticker adhered to my chest, and I had not eaten a thing, not for the entire day.

Uhhhh whooops.

Needless to say, once prescriptions were in hand, I raided the snack aisle and then sat in my car in the Walgreens parking lot, at 12:30am, while I devoured a calorie bomb of smoked almonds, peanut butter M&Ms, and a giant bag of wasabi kettle chips. It was like college all over again, and it was glorious.

Then I drove home and passed out. And that concludes our very eventful day of weird.


Friday morning he wasn’t going to summer camp, poor Mr. Sore Face. We had his dentist appointment first thing, and all we well – no damage to the permanent teeth as they had originally worried had happened, and the teeth broke at the root which is how it works with baby teeth. The chipped tooth would fall out soon on its own, so they didn’t even have to pull anything. He was told to keep to a liquid/soft-food diet for a week and take extra care of that loose tooth.

And good news = smoothies from freshii to celebrate.


I felt so bad for him. The rest of the day we rested a bit, then did some grocery shopping, and finally I took him to our favorite mall as a special treat. We played in the toy store and checked out UW gear and then took in a matinee of Inside Out. It was so good. I cried a little. Not as sad as Up, but close, and with a good message.


So anyway, that brings us to now. They gave him extra-strong stitches since it’s on the lip and that sees a lot of movement, and they should dissolve in a week or so. The gum swelling has gone down, and his fat lip is gone. All that remains now are the stitches and a gaping hole where his tooth once was. The other will follow suit shortly. And he isn’t so sure about the new mouth situation, he thinks he looks funny.


But whatever I think he looks adorable, crooked loose hillbilly tooth and all.


Buy bye, perfect baby teeth smile. Time to grow up and get bigger.



One Comment

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  1. Oh that poor thing! 😦 I knocked out my two front teeth when I was in Kindergarten (do not recommend “cleaning” a slide by going down holding a broom fyi) so I feel his pain. Just do him a favor and don’t sing “All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth” too much this holiday season (or next). That song still haunts me. Hope he feels better soon!

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