My poor middle daughter was nicknamed Rocky from all the black eyes she got. Her brow bone inevitably hit any hard surface while learning to walk and that child got a black eye everytime. To top it off, while changing her diaper once, she rolled off the bed when I turned to grab my toddler who was climbing on the bed and broke a collar bone. Luckily I had three witnesses in the room and darn if they tried (unsuccessfully) to catch her.
It made me worry people would think I abused my child. She suffered two more broken bones, both occurred at afterschool daycare from my daredevil, a clumsy daredevil though.
Nosy doctors creep me out.
My kids are covered with bruises, scratches, abrasions, sunburn, sometimes even black eyes.
If you compare them with a kid that sits on the couch all day playing video games, they might look a little beaten.
A friend of mine was at the pediatrician’s office when the doctor notices several bruises on her son. She tried to explain to the doctor that her son was rather exhuberant and always running and jumping all over the place. Her doctor was ready to call Child Services when her son took a flying leap off the examination table. The pediatrician finally believed her. Sometimes that’s not the case and some parents to abuse their children.
On the other hand, there are too many, way too many, “health professionals” that have read a book or an article, and consider themselves experts on the subject. These people can do serious harm.
About 5-6 years ago, I was having Christmas dinner at my house. I was carving up the rib roast, and my wife, who was doing something with the pots behind my back, bumped into me. Unfortunately, this knocked the roast off onto the floor.
Both my wife and I dived to catch it, me with the very sharp carving knife in my hand. It inflicted a serious injury to her ring finger.
We rushed her to the emergency room, but you would not believe the pressure the admitting nurse put on her to say it was something other than an accident. I could not believe the glares I got for her and a couple more nurses.
If she had been a child, I would have probably wound up in jail for the night. That is, until they checked out with the other 5 adult witness what had happened.
A little education is a dangerous thing, and incompetents rule most professions, IMO.
Then when I was 3, I fell down the front steps and broke my radius and ulna. The doctor did not set me arm so when the cast came off my arm was crooked and not healed properly.
SO, you guess it, I banged my arm and it re-broke. I remember being 3 and a half and having people questioning me in the emergency room about if my parents hurt me.
When I was a kid and misbehaved badly enough, Dad would take off his belt and smack me on my (covered) behind a few times, just enough to make it hurt and let me know that what I did should not be attempted again.
When I wouldn’t listen to reason, my Mom would go outside and get a ‘switch’ in which she would swat me with.
I suppose in this day and age Mom and Dad would have been sentenced to 20 years hard labor in prison for ‘mutilating’ me so badly.
When my 32 year old nephew was a child, he had asthma and was allergic to mosquito bites (my girls are too. they swell to the size of half dollars and have a white head on them)
We went to the drive in, the kid was playing on the swings for about an hour at dusk. He started having trouble breathing during the movie and we ran him into the emergency room.
The doctor looked at his mosquito bites and said, “These are cigarette burns”
Luckily, my sister was a nurse and said, “There are entry points on each of them if you look closely.” and there were.
I can’t imagine what would have happened if they had just called CPS!
I have a nephew who is very exuberant, strong and strong willed. When he chooses to go off somewhere it is hard to restrain him.
When he was only about 2 he would run full blast, and since he wasn’t yet very coordinated, he would run into things. Bruises all over. One time he was trying to get away from his mom who was holding his arm, and he dislocated his shoulder.
Fortunately, their doctor knows them well and knows how this child is, or they would be with cps constantly.
I almost broke my hand punching my mean teenage son in the shoulder...I told the bone guy exactly what happened too...
As a young child I was told I had to be harnessed to the bed and escaped at will. When memory serves I and my friends were doing stunt bike stuff sans helmets or pads at six and seven because we all loved Evel Knievel - mid 1960s before BMX. Then there was the pellet gun war games. And dares seeing ambulances on a regular basis.
All that came to a screeching halt for me when I borrowed a girl’s bike and she called out “I think the brake is bad!” Sure enough I came around a corner with a Cadillac bearing down, only little old lady blue hair visible above its wheel. “Break failure - speed through.” No, the old broad turned into my escape route and hit me around 35 mph, sending me flying some fifty feet and hitting the pavement on a curb.
According to the girl who rescued me the old lady kept on traveling. That brave and awesome girl dragged my crushed carcass to her parent’s door and dictated orders, saving my life. Fading in and out I recall that.
“Hey Mike, what does this have to do with child abuse?”
I was abusing myself via adventure while in a foster family that mayhaps didn’t exert enough control. While I got better my mishap had a lot to do with the divorce of the foster family taking care of me, so I was shuffled onto a family where the father believed everything his born daughters said while he never hesitated to translate his disappointment of my not becoming him with never-ending switchings, beltings and such.
Dude wouldn’t let up until the hickory was just chips amongst my blood or he just got tired. Thank God I’m not a scarring type. At 14 I was big enough, retaliated with a kitchen chair and camped on Lookout Mountain. He reported me a runaway and they snagged me coming down for supplies.
Sorry for all that dross. It started as a reply and found there is no justification for child abusers and the hate for what was done to me still burns.
Being better than the abuser without lowering oneself to their level is the goal. Convincing that to one’s soul is a different story.
Had my 2 year old’s hand firmly in one hand & my 3 year old’s hand firmly in my other hand while waiting in line at the bank one Saturday morning. (I was visibly pregnant w/ #3 at the time.
The 3 year old gets tired of standing & decides to sit down on the floor with out telling me. And since I was holding on to them pretty tightly (I was tired and didn’t want to have to chase them around the bank in my extended form), his elbow popped out of its socket. But he didn’t cry. So I didn’t think there was anything wrong till we picked my now ex up from work an hour later and the 3 year ld said his arm hurt & he couldn’t lift it up.
I cringed when the Dr matter-of-factly popped it back in & showed us how to do it if the elbow popped out again.
That was 25 years ago and I still feel just awful.