I don't know when this blogging became a once-a-week thing for me. I think it started when I decided to try to keep up with things around the house, rather than let stuff pile up and deal with it all at once. In a way, it's nice that my house stays cleaner looking, but in another way, it seems like I have less time to do fun stuff. I think I probably have the same amount of free time, it's just more scattered throughout the day in many tiny snippets, rather than a couple big lumps like I'm used to.
We did take a bunch of time yesterday to go on a fun outing with the boys. We took them to Tautphaus Park, the zoo in Idaho Falls. It is a really nice zoo for the size of town that it's in. The boys really enjoyed seeing all the animals "in person;" we've been reading about different animals, and they know all the sounds, like ducks quack and lions roar, so it was fun for them to see it all live.
In my mind, the highlight of the zoo was the monkeys, because they were the most interactive. Even though they were behind glass, they were very curious about the boys, and vice-versa. Drew and Owen put their little hands on the glass and were thrilled when the monkeys responded by putting their little hands on the other side of the glass.
The only down-side to the excursion was when my camera battery died while taking a picture of said monkeys. It was right at the beginning of the trip, too. I went to all the trouble of making sure we had plenty of memory for photos, but didn't bother to glance at how much juice the battery had. Grr. But we're hoping to go back in September, on one of the Free Admission days (assuming I can still walk at that point; it'll be about 4-7 days before Baby-Day), so if we do, I'll be sure to have an empty memory card and a full battery!
Today was also exciting, but not so much of the good kind of excitement. Today marked Drew's first trip to the emergency room. He had been playing in the back yard, and was running toward the deck when he tripped and fell, his little forehead landing right on the bottom [cement] step of the deck. The gash wasn't huge; about a centimeter long, if that, but it seemed really deep. It gushed a bit, then stopped after I cleaned it with a washcloth, but by the time we got to the hospital, it had started bleeding a little more. So I'm glad we went to get it checked out.
The cut required just two little stitches, which ended up being quite an ordeal, especially for a frightened little Drew. He cried while they applied the topical anesthetic, which was in the form of some goop placed on a cotton swab and bandaged to his head, then left to sit for about 25 minutes to "work its magic." The nurse said this was easier than a shot, but I kind of wonder. Shots don't take long, and that bandage (which went all the way around Drew's head--twice) was a major pain to put on and take off. It caused a lot of crying and wailing. On the other hand, it didn't hurt like a shot would, it was just scary.
Drew had to be "mummied" while they stitched him up. That scared him a lot, too. It involved a pillow case wrapped around his shoulders, which was also Ace-bandaged to stay in place. Of course he screamed while that was put on him. The nurse was really great, though, and sang little nursery songs and told him a story about a snowman. But then the doctor went and put a cloth over Drew's face and head to keep the hair away from the wound, and that started Drew screaming all over again.
He screamed through the remainder of the procedure, but when it was all finished and David mentioned going to get ice cream, Drew stopped screaming long enough to say through his tears, "Ice cream, please." After that he just kind of whimpered on the way out of the hospital, but was brave enough to say "'Bye" to all the nurses. Once again, I'm amazed at how resilient little kids are. The rest of the day, Drew was his normal self, running and yelling and carrying on.
I think it was too much excitement for Baby and me, though. I've been having little contractions off and on since the incident, and Baby has been kicking and poking my insides with extra force. I hate to say this, but I'm kind of glad David's working tonight; it means I get to really sprawl out on my bed and [hopefully] get a good night's sleep!
4 comments:
Aw, poor Drew! Glad it wasn't any worse than that. Knock on wood, but I am amazed that after 8 years of kids we haven't had any ER trips ourselves. There have been a couple when I really wondered if we should take in James, but then decided to do my own doctoring up of deep cuts. I'm kinda glad we didn't take him in and have to deal the the ER, but it's a really tough call. Hope the excitement didn't send you into an early labor!
: ( Poor Drew! Waaa! My kids haven't had stitches (yet). They're pretty scary for little people, especially the papoose board.
My daughter was put in a papoose board at the dentist's.
Well, I came home from work (I'm a college psychology instructor), and my daughter was crying. I saw that my wife had been crying too.
"Rose," I said calmly. "What happened?"
She came over to hug me. "George, when I took Susan to the dentist today, I was told that I could not come into the treatment room. Afterwards, when she came out, the doctor told me that they had been forced to put her in a papoose board. Susan has been crying all the day."
I went to Susan and hugged her. "There, there, Susan. Daddy is going to make it all OK again."
Then I went out to the car. I drove all the way to the dentist's office, and waited outside it for a while. Neither the dentist, the nurse nor the receptionist has met me. I waited outside, and after a while I saw both women (the nurse and the receptionist) leave. I knew that the dentist was probably doing some paperwork.
Now, for a description of myself compared to the dentist:
That dentist is a man I knew when I went to college. He is about 5'5 tall. I, on the other hand, am 6'5 tall, and I was a quarterback at my college football team. (That's how I met Rose, by the way. She was a cheerleader at that college.)Some of my students will, in the beginning, think that I look intimidating, with my black crewcut and beard at my chin. But I am usually a very nice man, but when I get angry, well, I get angry.
Well, I went into the office. The doctor looked up.
"Who are you, sir?"
"I am Susan's father."
"Sir, I j-j-j-ust..." Here he was interrupted by me, punching him in his face.
"Why did you do that?" he screamed.
"Let me ask you why you did that to my daughter?!" I shouted back to him.
"Well, she were squirming, and..."
"And you wanted her to have dental phobia for the rest of her life, right?" I punched him in the stomach. He fell off his chair, and onto the office floor.
I pinned him to the floor.
"Let me tell you one thing, Doctor Idiot. You do that thing to Susan again, and..."
"And what?" He asked, very frightened.
"Well, well, who finds you first then, the police or the bears?" I asked, in my most intimidating voice.
I let go of him. And then I left, but not before telling him "And the same thing applies if you tell anyone what happened to you!"
When I came home I told Susan that "that mean dentist will never trouble you again". I kissed her on the forehead. Then I went to discuss baseball with my 13-year old son, Harry.
Rose managed to find another dentist for Susan. Harry was already going to another dentist. The only ones except for you and me who knows it to this day is the dentist, Rose, Susan, Harry, and a priest I told it to in the confessional booth.
The next dentist were a good one.
But let me tell you a little bit about the bad dentist. Some weeks later I and Harry went to a baseball match. Next to us were...
You guessed right, the dentist. When he saw who he was sitting next to, his face went grey like ashes. In a pause, he left the ballpark.
Four months later, that dentist moved out of the town.
Rose is now eleven years old (she was six at that time). Harry is in the US Marine Corps.
I meant Susan was 11, not Rose, Rose is my wife
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