The Finger Nail Saga

It’s been a bit since I shared the random quirks that raising five year olds brings each day. It is a never ending surprise how they will react to things and handle situations, but sometimes that is the fun part!

For example, for the past two months, Emerie has nursed a broken and dying fingernail. Of course, it’s also her middle finger, which she will proudly display upon request. And I’m sure most of you can guess exactly how this mass catastrophe occurred, and probably which kid contributed!

Going back to age three, Emerie lost a fingernail pretty early into our second daycare experience, courtesy of Reagan slamming her hand in the preschool bathroom door. The injury resulted in my tiny three year old getting picked up from school early and running to the pediatrician to get it all clean it up. It looked pretty brutal and Emerie was quite dismayed. I remember picking her up from the school office and she was just so upset about it. Over two years later and Emerie completely remembers this experience, often reminding her sister about the pain and sorrow she caused, and recalling the nice doctor and (sterile) water used to clean it. Overall her story is more factual and she doesn’t recount the blood or the associated pain, just the fact she left school early and met a nice doctor, who made it better and gave her a band-aid. I believe it’s likely her youngest memory, and what a doozy!

The second time this occurred I received less details, other than her hand was slammed in her bedroom door and all the screaming and tears. So this third time…have you guessed the culprit yet? But of course, it was again Reagan, and while at school.

So over the past two months her new nail has grown in below the old one, with the main issue other than pain that the door slamming broke the cuticle and it’s only slightly connected on on side. This means it snags on everything and she is easily able to con someone as school to provide her a new band-aid each day, even after Craig or I have refused to give her another one for the millionth time. She has nursed this finger for days, fleeing the scene anytime Craig offers to chop it off, pull it off, clean it out, look at it, or anything outside of the demands for more band-aids. We clearly should have purchased stock in the band-aid brand as soon as the girls became mobile, because we go through a ton of them. In fact, in the past couple of months, band-aids are a request on the daily and are often for scratches from prior injuries that ARE NOT BLEEDING. Apparently anything with a little red equals the need for a band-aid, at least that is what Reagan tells me. The last time I opened the box of band-aids in the drawer, I found about a thousand empty packages shoved back in, and a lot less new ones to use. Not to mention all the lovely used ones that are found everywhere as little presents….so gross!

The morale and ending to this story- I picked the girls up from school on Monday, after a solid week of requests to Emerie to try to pull of the half disconnected and rotting old nail, and the dramatics and running away responses received. So as I walk toward the gym to sign them out, Reagan and Harper run up to tell me Emerie lost her fingernail!!

I looked at Emerie and ask her how that happened- she shrugs with an I don’t know, and keeps walking; no reaction at all. TWO months of resistance to anything or anyone going near it, and it comes off and no response whatsoever. Kids…

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