The Great Tick-Off

This may come as a shock, but I have made it to the age of 28 without, to my knowledge, EVER having a tick on me. Amazing, considering that I spent half my life tramping through the Rocky Mountains and fishing at obscure ponds with my dad. I was always outside playing, and while I clearly remember diligently doing the tick check after coming in from the woods, I always came up clean.

I may have escaped ticks, but I did not escape the girly predisposition of being seriously disgusted by bugs of all kinds.

So, tonight, when I was getting my filthy 4 yr old boy ready for a shower, I was struck with spine-tingling fear when I saw that tiny, awful, frightening tick. Those of you who have children know that they sense fear, right? Maybe it was my huge gasp, or maybe the fact I jumped completely out of my skin when I saw it, latched onto his innocent little shoulder, but I think tanner might have sensed that I was a little bothered by something on his body.

Thus, began the hysteria.

I certainly did not want to touch it. And he didn't want me to touch it. So we had a problem. Has anyone ever tried to perform minor surgery (yes, tick removal is minor surgery) on a 4 year old who wasn't receptive to the idea? Oh my gosh, it would've taken 10 men to hold that child down - I certainly couldn't do it alone!

My mind was racing. Who could I call to do this for me? No one. Deep sigh. It was one of those moments as a mother where you realize that you must be strong for your child. You must put on a brave face. You must put your own fears aside and tackle the unknown. I reached for the tweezers.

BIG mistake.

Tanner took one look at the tweezers and they may as well have been a chainsaw. The noises coming out of him escalated to an inhuman level. The screaming was doing nothing for my own frazzled nerves. Like I wanted to use the tweezers! They were pointy, and what if I pinched his skin, or worse, what if the tick exploded? I was living a nightmare.

Did I mention that while this was going on, I had another child in the tub, happy and tickless, taking her bath in the other bathroom? I was baby-sitting, and bless her heart, she lost a little of her innocence tonight. She witnessed an all-out joint meltdown of mother and son.

Okay so the tweezers weren't going to work. Neither did the little square of toilet paper i put between my fingers and that disgusting creature. I couldn't get a good hold on it. Desperately, I called my brother. "Just pull it out!" he said. Yeah. As if I hadn't tried that. Hanging up the phone, feeling very alone in this big bad world full of ticks, I headed back to the battle zone.

By this time, the dripping wet little girl had abandoned her bath and was now trying to comfort a distraught Tanner, and to get a look at the thing that was causing so much drama. I took a deep breath, put on my game face, and stepped back into hell.

I sat on the floor, smiling cheerily as if pulling ticks out was as common as brushing my teeth, and talking to tanner in a voice that was way too high-pitched to be sincere. He didn't buy it for a second. So I did the only thing I could. I tackled him. I pulled him onto my lap, held him down, and attacked. The screams were probably heard throughout the city, but I heard nothing. I was focused. I was taking no prisoners.

I got that little sucker, with my own bare hands! He never knew what pinched 'im.

Minutes later, tanner was singing in the shower, basking in his triumph over certain Lyme disease.

It was a major triumph for me, too, as a parent. My first tick removal ever. And I was victorious! 

Next time, though, I'm calling 911.