Trip to the ER!

we'll all fine, but here's why we went in...

Eric has swim lessons, monday and wednesday, at 1. we need to leave the house by 12:30 to get there on time.

Alton was sleeping in his bed. I went to get him, pack him a lunch, and off we go, right?

Well.

Heading into the kitchen, I tripped, and we fell. He landed on his face. Bloodied his nose, bloodied his lip, cryin like a baby banshee. Now, I know his cryin, and this was a whole new level of baby cryin.

So I tell Eric, "Sorry, hon, but we're gonna have to skip swim lessons." . . .and now he's cryin. I'm on the floor, baby banshee on my lap, disappointed eight year old next to me, both of them sobbing.

Ok, I cannot deal with two of them, so I tell Eric we'll see what happens when Alton gets in his car seat--the bleedin's stopped.

We head to the Urgent Care, and in the car, Eric mentions that Alton's "a sleepy baby." So I tell the nurse that at UC, she tells the dr, and the dr basically says, "you really want the ER, since they do CT scans and we don't and he needs one."

So we load up again and head to the ER. Once we get in the ER, he's all "I'm so cute and happy" baby. I'm thinking, "ugh, we could totally leave. He's obviously fine." but instead, we spend two hours there--and get a CT scan--before we are excused with, "He's obviously fine."

A toddler getting a CT scan is interesting. the techs put him on the table, then help me lay on top of him, to keep his hands and feet still. Then, I have to hold his chin, so his head stays mostly still and they can get the pictures. He cried at first, but I started singing, and the thingie started spinning, and he was quiet and almost perfectly still. It made me laugh when I realised I was singing "ashes, ashes, we all fall DOWN!"

as he gets checked out after a fall.so, yeah, he's fine. Looks kinda roughed up--looks like a prizefighter.

Crazy Hair!

So today was cRaZy hAiR dAy and Eric's hair was the crrrraziest!

He was on the school newscast this morning.

In case you're not sure what you're seeing. . . his school's colors are yellow and purple. I used poster paint to paint his head purple, and yellow fabric paint to add splash. I put pawprints on the side of his head--their school mascot is a lion.

So there you go.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Well, actually, he's here already. Eric had a list of sixteen things he wanted to ask Santa for. Santa explained that even good boys don't get everything on their lists. Of course, I've been telling Eric that since he started working on his list.

Alton's First Recall

Aw. How cute. His car seat's been recalled because the seat cushion is backed with a weak fabric. This weak fabric could pull away from the seams, exposing the stuffing. A child could then take that stuffing, put it in his mouth, and choke on it.

Seems a bit unlikely to me, but we get a new seat cushion out of the deal.

The seat does still work as a child restraint.

Alton Speaks French.

Seriously. We were just sitting here, and I said, "Hey, Alton, what's your favorite French accent mark?"

"aigu."

I said, "Oh really? What about Japanese poetry?"

"Haiku."

"Hm. What's your favorite color?"

"ah. . .blue."

"What's the worst film Leslie Nielsen ever made?"

"Magoo."

I tried to get these answers on cam, but he would only talk "off the record."

War of the Wasp

Wednesday night, Eric was on the couch. He was sitting quietly, reading for his school assignment. . .the peace was suddenly shattered by his shrieks. Wasp!! Wasp!!!

A wasp landed at his waist, walked under his shirt. Apparently, wasp feet tickle. When you start identifying their species, tho, wasps take offense and start stinging. That one wasp stung him four times on his back before Dan was able to get Eric's shirt off. I couldn't help until the wasp was >ahem< "removed." I'm pretty much scared of wasps.

Holy cow. Wasps leave big holes. So I check the internet, primarily to find out how many wasp stings is too many. (Ten. ten-to-twenty, seek medical care) I give him kid's motrin and a half shot of benadryl, and get him a nice big ice pack for more immediate relief. He's still not feeling quite better, so I call in the consolation experts--Cartoon Network! Dan points out that you're not supposed to use ice for more than twenty minutes. I ask him if he thinks Eric will sit still for twenty minutes. Really. It's okay.

Once he's adequately comforted, I leave him here with Dan to go buy a bomb. We suspect they have a nest in our chimney. Their nest is a wasteland now. We bombed them last night in their waspy sleep. I feel vindicated.

Smile Baby!

He likes to be tickled. . .