I flew off to Chicago last week, to meet Byron there for a few days of R and R. My mom kindly offered to watch the boys so I could get away. My plane landed and I called Byron’s cell. He said he was picking up our rental car and would be at the terminal momentarily. That was ALL he said.

As I waited, I noticed that I had a voice mail message, which is very rare for me. I figured it was Byron, from earlier in the day. But no, it was my mom, calling right as my plane must have been taking off. Let me paraphrase – but closely paraphrase – the message: “Mack hit Aidan with a baseball bat! In the face! Oh my god, the blood! The blood! He might lose his eye! Have you taken off yet? We’re going to the ER!”

Needless to say, I completely lost my mind right there at O’Hare. I called Byron back and found out that he already knew, and had been waiting to tell me in person. I couldn’t believe that this would happen to my darling Aidan, who I leave so rarely, when I wasn’t there. My first instinct was to hop right on the next plane back home.

Well, after getting an update (he didn’t lose his eye) and talking to my mom, and talking to my sister, and talking to Aidan, I decided to continue with my long weekend. Aidan’s Grammy and Auntie Emily did a wonderful job taking care of him, waiting for a plastic surgeon to give him 23 stitches, and making sure he didn’t agitate the wound after it was stitched.

I think the only thing worse than seeing your child hurt must be having him get hurt when you aren’t there.

Oh, and lest you think we should be sending Mack for serious counseling – the incident was an accident that happened when Aidan bent over behind Mack as he took a swing.