One of my scariest moments as a mom happened on Saturday.
It was unseasonably cold, so we were decked out in long-sleeved shirts, jeans, socks and tennies. Lucky for us!
Joined by our good friends, Mo's 4-year-old buddy J. and his mama M., we set out on a nature hike - one of the boys favorite adventures. I pushed Curley in the stroller.
The big boys ran ahead excitedly with M., when they stopped suddenly. I caught up and noticed J. was crying a little and apparently had gotten stung by a bee, just behind his ear. (Ouch!)
Then Mo grabbed his belly and yelled "Ow!" and "Ow!" again.
That's when I noticed the bees swarming around me, too! We all ran in the direction of the cars, the 4-year-olds and moms screaming like crazy people.
I later told my husband that the bees seemed very "sticky" and he replied, "No, they were attacking!" I guess I'm just used to being able to shoo them away and that's that.
They were really going after Mo's jeans, and M. and I had to wipe the bees off him with our hands (and then keep running). At one point the evil little buzzers turned to me and even got stuck in my hair, and I had to pull them out with my fingers. I think I only got one sting in my scalp, but man did that hurt!
Back at the car, the swarm had finally dissipated. I stripped little Mo - and it was cold out there! - and had him jump in the car. Sure enough, when I shook out his clothes, at least two more bees flew out.
Throughout the whole thing, Curley was remarkably calm - I'm sure we were great entertainment! - so we assumed he was spared. Come to find out when we got home and striped him, too, that he had three stings on his belly.
Not sure if he got them during the swarm or later in the car? He did cry a tiny bit on the drive home. And we found a bee in the car when we pulled into our driveway. I bet the neighbors could have heard Mo shriek, my poor little man, when he discovered we brought a bee home with us.
He had the same reaction - screamed - when he found a fly in the house about five minutes later. I killed the fly for him, just for good measure.
Mo, 42 pounds, had eight stings on his belly, back and shoulders. I called the nurseline, and they said to put a baking powder paste on it, give him some Tylenol and watch him carefully. Thankfully, I already knew he's not allergic to bees - since he had a sting when he was two. If I didn't know that, I would have headed straight to urgent care.
He never cried. And he took immense pleasure in calling the bees "stupid" and "dumb" - two words that are usually banned in our house, but I made an exception in this case. I also asked what I could get him to make him feel better and he wanted nachos from Taco Bell. So I got him that and one of those Fruitista drinks - high sugar, frozen drinks that he's only had by the straw-full when his aunt is around.
With the nachos and Fruitista, he was a happy kid again. No more mention of the bees, unless someone asked or brought it up. I was worried about nightmares or a fear of going outside - but no. We spent much of Sunday outdoors and even walked in the woods on Monday.
It was like the entire, traumatic bee attack was erased by a frozen strawberry beverage from the drive-thru.
It just amazes me at how tough my boys are.
If that happened to me as a kid, I bet I'd still be terrified of bees. In fact, after Saturday, I think I am!
1 year ago