Wednesday was normal. It was regular. I did what I do on a
lot of normal, regular days during the witching hours of 3pm-6pm when I am
about to my max out with mothering and just need a minute of quiet and no
complaining or arguing before dinner and dad’s arrival home. I turned on a
movie, popped some popcorn and handed three kids a bowl of normal, regular,
Wednesday witching hour snack.
While munching on that normal, regular Wednesday snack, my
middle child, a beautiful blond hair blue eyed self-professed mama’s boy did
something out of our normal, regular Wednesday witching hour routine. As he
mindlessly munched, he got to the bottom of his favorite snack only to find
unpopped kernels of snack time deliciousness, the bottom of the bowl, all that was left. One kernel in
particular caught this engineer minded little boy’s attention. A kernel that
was perfect in its size and shape. One that would fit somewhere easy and
familiar. His ear canal. And so this
blue eye, blond haired middle child stuck that perfectly normal, Wednesday
bottom of the bowl snack time remnant in his ear without prompting or informing
those around him. And there it sat. It was the first in what I’m sure will be a
string of poor life choices.
At about 8pm, he alerted me to the fact that there was
something in his ear. The consummate picker, I assumed it was a good chunk of
earwax (TMI I know…) that required my expert skills with a cotton swab so I got
my tool ready for use. Only to find it wasn’t what I was thinking, but rather
one lone kernel of unpopped popcorn. Dad had just walked in the door so we
began to do what one does in this scenario. We began to weigh whether or not
this constitutes an emergency situation and proceeded to contact every medical
professional we knew that would take a call at 8pm without offense. And thus
began what I will affectionately always refer to as Kernelgate 2016.
45. That’s how many hours Kernelgate took to resolve. 8.
That is the number of medical professionals it took to finally remove the
kernel.
Medical
professionals #1-3 suggested trying to float it out with water and so we
submerged a boy in water to no avail.
Medical
professional #4 began with an uncontrolled fit of laughter in a small, ugly
pink pediatrician’s office. She would return with medical professional #5 who
would try to unearth the kernel with a small, scoop like instrument. With no
luck. #4 would then return a second time with #6, all the while still giggling
and trying yet another fruitless attempt with a syringe of water and a bowl
designed to catch things coming out of ones ear. #4 would strike some fear with
mentions of sedation and ear vacuums.
Medical
professional #7, a salty ENT nurse, would throw some shade in my direction as
she gathered information as to what had been tried. Water! That can make it swell. Well lady, it’s what medical
professionals #1-7 suggested and #4-6 tried. She would give me the rundown of my
role, sit in the chair and wrap his legs
under yours while holding his hands across his body, and give me the worst
case scenario, if this doesn’t work, you’ll
be in the OR tonight.
Enter
Medical professional #8, an ENT doctor, an expert in the exact crevice my boy
inserted a popcorn kernel in. Not a man of many words, just a quick how did this happen? (Side note:
seriously…do we even need this question? He is three. He has an ear hole the
size of a popcorn kernel. You have an advanced medical degree. Take a wild
guess.) And an explanation of what we were going to do. A thin metal pick like
tool was going to be strategically placed in the ear behind the kernel. It’s not going to hurt if you don’t move and
let me work. If you do move, we are going to have to go on to something harder.
Eight medical professionals later, the popcorn kernel was
skillfully excavated without an OR visit. 45 hours after one bad decision led
to a slew of phone calls and doctor visits. For a popcorn kernel. For.
A. Pop. Corn. Kernel.
[The chair of redemption]
It got me thinking though as I schlepped my boy from doctor
to doctor over the course of three days: Aren’t
we are all just shoving popcorn kernels in our ears? Those little, seemingly innocuous nuggets
that just seem to fit perfectly: that thing in the schedule, that relationship,
that additional role or responsibility, that one decision that seems so small. Things
that on their own have no inherent harm and
we ultimately shove them in because they fit.
Only we discover, if we leave them there, there is a chance for some serious
damage to take place. Destruction to that which is most precious: our ability to hear. But, inside each of
us is a three year old boy, who isn’t really thinking through the ramifications
of putting that kernel in our canal, but who is only thinking but. It.
fits.
Here is what I gleaned from Kernelgate 2016, priceless
little kernels of truth for us crammers of things that seem to fit just right:
1.) One small bad decision can lead to a pretty
intricate redemption plan: If faith the size of a mustard seed can move a
mountain, then poor decisions the size of a popcorn kernel can interrupt and
rearrange life like a tidal wave. Hours at the doctor’s office, calls to
multiple friends and babysitters to work out a logistical plan for other
children, disturbances in the only two calendar days in months that literally
had nothing on them. All because of a
popcorn kernel. Something so small causing such a great amount of work and
grief and requiring the most skilled of professionals to keep it from leading
to permanent, irreversible damage.
2.)
Even
though it fits easily, it doesn’t mean it’s meant to be there: Just because
I can take on one more task or just because a relationship is available, doesn’t
mean I’m supposed to fill a space. That small little kernel has the potential
to swell, given the right set of circumstances, or to get lodged further down,
in the depths where our precious ability to
hear what we are supposed to can get threatened. A schedule crammed to the
max, a relationship that constantly brings us to the brink, another
responsibility that just wasn’t meant to be there will clog us up and block our
capacity to really hear. And it all
starts because we say to ourselves, but
it fits.
3.)
In the midst
of a bad decision, the remedy requires being held tight and following the
instructions of the ultimate professional to a T: There is only one way out of this mess of stuffing our earholes
with popcorn seeds. Sit still. Very, very still. Even though it goes against
your squirmy, wormy nature little one. And let the one who knows exactly how to
take out the thing you’ve perfectly lodged in your space do what only He can
do. If you listen, really, really listen and
do the things He tells you to do, allowing
yourself to be held tightly in the process, He will take it out. If
you don’t, this saga will continue and that skilled master will have to strap
you down and start operating. Don’t let that kernel lead to an avalanche of unnecessary
pain.
I’m guessing this was a beginning of sorts. Helping my
little guy maneuver his poor decisions as he grows into a man. This one was
fodder for funny Facebook and Instagram posts and illustrations for blogs, but
the next ones might not be. The next proverbial kernel shoved in his ear, or
mine for that matter, might cause a lot more damage. May we all learn just because it fits, doesn’t mean it’s meant
to be there and that when we do face the consequences of what started out
as something so small and meaningless that there is one professional, ready to
help us fish out those things we’ve shoved deep in crevices on a perfectly
normal, Wednesday afternoon. Sit still.
Listen carefully. Let Him do what only He can do. And this whole crazy,
whirlwind of a story will come to an anti-climatical ending.
Here’s to all the kernel
stuffers and poor life choices that teach us a little something in the process…
Until next time,
-C.
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