Tick Extraction

Time to put this narrative out into cyberspace so it no longer lives in my head. Will I ever again be able to think a day without penning a blog?

We were having an unusually quiet day at home (and when I mean quiet, I mean uneventful, not literally quiet because I have two preschool boys...quiet is NOT in their vocabulary). We slept in (if you consider 8:30am sleeping in - which these days I do), had a leisurely breakfast, watched some cartoons, and around about (well, I won't tell you the actual time because you might think I'm a bad Mom), I finally decided to change Will's soggy diaper...those new fangled diapers sure do hold A LOT!

As I was wrangling him to take it off I noticed something behind his ear. Oh no, it can't be. Is it? Yes, it is...it's a tick. Now, I told you a few posts back how I feel about spiders. You do know ticks are arachnids, don't you? They have 8 legs. After I recovered from the initial paralization, I tried to think of what to do. I had never removed a tick before, Rich takes care of all the arachnid killing around here. I called him, but there was no answer. I knew I could not do this on my own, so I called in for reinforcements. I tried to think of who I knew that had performed a tick extraction before. Now, I know that when I say her name, you are going to start feeling sorry for her. I know you're thinking, "Poor Dixie, can she have a more co-dependent friend?". However, I did call Dixie, because I was sure she would know how to extract a tick. Not only that, I was sure she would be able to calmly talk me through it. She has been through a few "crises" of her own, but that is a story for another day and another blog.

I wish I had a transcript of this call, because I'm sure it sounded a lot like a 911 call. I would try to write it out, but I don't think it would do it justice. Just imagine a 911 call about a tick with my voice as the panicked caller and Dixie's voice as the calm 911 operator. You get the picture.

Anyway, I did it! Will, had no clue what was happening. He was too distracted by his screaming, flailing mother. As I was flushing the tick down the toilet, he said "what's wong Mommy", "are you otay?" and then I heard him say to Richie "Mommy has an owie". He had no idea that I was freaking out because I had just removed an arachnid from behind his ear.

After that, I would have been able to let Dixie get back to whatever it was she was doing before I called (I didn't bother to ask, sorry Dixie!), but before we could close our call I needed a lengthy reassurance that it would be extremely rare for Will to be struck with Lyme or any other rare disease as a result of his tick bite. Phew!