Chiggers...Ticks...Oh My!

I haven't blogged in what seems like years, which cannot be the case, only my impression of how much time has passed. But yesterday there came a story that I cannot help but retell. Nathanial, my sweet, sweet child, has never apologized for anything simply because he didn't really understand the words "I'm sorry." Well, my friends, here is the heartbreaking story of how he came to learn what the words "I'm sorry."

Nathanial has an awesome tricycle that helps him work his arm that is affected by the brachial plexus injury. He loves it! We decided to take a tricycle ride. Let me back up a bit. We've been living with my in-laws and watching as our house is being built. There are two lots in the cul-de-sac that are uncleared and the deer love to hang out in them. Even though we don't make a habit of frolicking in these fields, the creepy crawlies occasionally make there way over to our yard and the yards around the neighborhood.

I digress. We went for a tricycle ride and a couple of times Nathanial rode his tricycle into the edge of the grace of my in-laws yard. We continued to ride and made our way down to cul-de-sac at the opposite end of the neighborhood. That is when I saw them. At the time, there were three or four tiny dots on his neck, top of his ear, etc. I tried to brush them off. They weren't coming off...I knew they were eating on my child. Now, as I'm realizing Nathanial is covered in "buggies," he is admiring a monarch butterfly feasting flowers around a neighbors mailbox. Needless to say, he did not want to leave and threw a tantrum. I managed to explain to him that he had "buggies" on him and we had to get them off. I then pushed his tricycle really fast and we pretended hew as a race car. It worked.

When we got into the house, I called out to my mother-in-law and told her I think we have ticks. I got the tweezers and alcohol preps. She helped hold him down. These creatures, whatever they were, were tiny. I'm talking smaller-than-a-freckle tiny. My fingers weren't cutting it and the tweezers were pinching. I kept telling Nathanial over and over again "I'm sorry, Mommy is sorry." Then he started saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Every time I moved the tweezers toward him he said "I'm sorry." Finally, he started shouting "All done...all done!" His tears and his apologies made me feel like he felt he was being punished or tortured for doing something wrong. It was extremely upsetting.

In total, I pulled 10 tick/chigger things off of him that night and one the next morning that had hidden in the fold behind his ear. We kept them in a ziplock back should he start to show symptoms of any of the tick-bourne diseases.

I reflected a lot on the experience. Obviously, I had no other choice in what I had to do. Perhaps I could have been a little less freaked out. Perhaps I could have been more calm. I have no idea. What I do know is that sometimes parents have to do things that at the time are painful and hard and almost impossible to get through but you do them because those things are vital for your child's wellbeing. In my case, I was trying to prevent Lyme disease. How do you explain that to a 2-year-old who thinks his Mama and Nana are torturing him? Sigh. Now he knows the words "I'm sorry," I just have to reteach him what they mean!