Let me start this out with the disclaimer that I KNOW the topic I'm going to discuss is a very serious one. I understand why teachers are bound by law to report, and I am not making light of it. I'm making light of my daughter selling me out.
This evening Julia came to me to show me how ginormous this wart she has on her hand has gotten. We've been treating with every OTC med known to man, but it's just not going away.
Her doctor recommended filing it down a bit before the treatments to make sure the medication can penetrate the actual wart. Not ever having warts, I'm new to this long term treatment thing (3 months so far) and let me just say, so far, warts are getting close to lice in terms of the most annoying childhood issue.
Tonight, it was twice it's normal size. So before we did her treatment, I attempted to remove some of the top layer. Let's just say, Julia freaked the hell out. She has been like this since she was a child. Each Dr. Mommy event is turned into a hysterical, dramatic, traumatic episode that leaves us both exhausted. Seriously, pulling a little splinter from her hand can take 45 minutes of screaming, kicking and tears. OH THE TEARS! We're not even talking about the tiny little splinter that you can leave in or have to dig around to get out (which is something I would not attempt with Julia, because I would end up with two black eyes), I'm talking about a rather large, superficial chunk of wood that is protruding from the skin. The kind that is a little painful, but a 1 second removal makes it all better. Nuh uh. Not with Julia. I would rather eat glass than remove a splinter or the worst.... band aid a tiny scrape.
SO back to tonight. I know she was tired and that didn't help, but literally, the girls was climbing up her father to get away. I held her arms while Dan tried a little, and he held her in a restraint position while I tried a little. Keep in mind, Julia was telling us in between shrieks of terror that it didn't hurt, but it MIGHT. So, we were sure we were not causing her pain, she was scared of the potential of pain.
After 30 minutes of this torture, we got about 1/2 the top of the wart off, put the medicine on, got it bandaided up, declined the begging for ibuprofen (she said it didn't hurt, but what if it did during the night???) and had her cuddled in bed. I was rubbing lotion on the girls arms when I noticed three little marks in straight lines on her arm. I realized that it was probably from us holding her. She also had the same mark on her wrist where I held her hand so she couldn't jerk it away (which she was doing with the force of a pissy stallion).
I asked her if anything had happened to her arm and she said yeah, she thought she got it from playing outside. I said I thought it looked like from when I was holding her arm. By this point, it was already fading, so then I was certain that's what it was. She said "OH, so it's from when you grabbed me?" WHAT????????
I told her that at no time did I grab her, that it was from when I was holding her arms to keep her from yanking them away. She then says, "I don't know what it's from!"
So, to clarify, I said, "OK, say tomorrow that Mrs. W asks you what happened to your arm (which I might add, no longer had any visible marks) your answer is?"
"I fell from a tree?"
"NO, try again."
"I bumped my arm?"
"No, try again. Tell her what happened."
"My mom grabbed me."
"Oh, Julia. Why did your mom grab you?" I said, continuing the pretend dialogue.
"I don't know, she was yanking me to her."
"oh geez" At this point Dan is laughing.
"Heather, most kids have to be coached in making something up to cover suspicious injuries, our kid needs to be coached in telling the truth."
"Ok, let's try this again Julia., 'what happened to your arm'
"my mom grabbed me."
"I don't know!"