Last night about midnight, I woke up and realized that someone was trying to smother me to death. So the thoughts that ran through my head when I realized I couldn't breathe very well were that 1 - the world was indeed ending a year ahead of the 2012 prediction, 2 - R was really ticked off about the picture thing from last weekend or 3 - we had left a door unlocked and a random band of miscreants were going to murder us for our kids dvd library, our collection of power tools, and whatever miscellaneous objects they could find that had value. I hope they weren't counting on my wedding set as the jackpot, 'cause I scored that baby through the diamonique collection at QVC. We're in the military - enlisted - no way is that 3 carat beauty the real deal.
By the time all this ran through my head, I realized that no one was actually trying to kill me because for sure I'd be dead already. Taking stock of my surroundings, I realized I had a toddler on my head. S had come in our room and crawled into bed with us. Why she decided to fall back asleep while laying over my massive head is a complete mystery to me, but there she was. So I wiggled out from underneath her, which of course woke her up, and I got her all settled back down. She's a kicker so I decided to lie down on the floor until she fell back asleep and then I'd move her back to her bed. Then I realized that it was silly to lie down on the floor when there was a perfectly comfortable couch downstairs. Grabbing a blanket and pillow, I headed to the couch. Every time I'd go to move her back to her bed, she'd wake up. I realize now that I should have just put her back in her bed, but I didn't want her to start screaming and wake up T. Once he's up - that's it for sleep for all of us since S won't go back to sleep either.
Around 4 am, I finally fell asleep on the couch. My head must have been in a strange position because when R came downstairs and woke me up to go back to bed upstairs, I was so stiff and achy. I somehow got myself upstairs and collapsed into our bed. I woke up at 9:30 which is the mommy equivalent to noon. Still feeling stiff and achy, I took a long hot shower. Have I mentioned lately how lucky I am to be married to R? God bless that man for letting me sleep in and take a super shower.
Feeling awake and human, I came downstairs and sat down at the table to have a yogurt. That of course meant that S wanted one too, so as I got up to get her a spoon, I dropped my yogurt which splattered all over the floor and across the books and photo albums on the bottom shelf. Great. As I'm cleaning that up, T walks over and says - "Mom, you've got to be more careful." HA.
So I go to get something to drink and as I open a bottle of fizzy water, it spews everywhere. Yikes - I haven't been up an hour yet. It most have been something in the air today, because all of us were just clumsy and dangerous today - dropping things, spilling things, tripping over things. It was getting to the point where it was really comical. Then, at dinner, S is sitting at the table with a butter knife practicing cutting with a piece of french bread. R and I aren't that worried because we were right there, the knife wasn't sharp, she knows to be careful, and the bread she was cutting was super soft. All of a sudden she drops the knife and starts to scream. I can just tell she's cut herself. I tell R he has to look at it because ever since T slammed his finger in the door a couple years ago and practically split it in two, that's all I can see with finger injuries involving blood. R takes S over to the sink and her finger is really bleeding. Once he tells me it's not in pieces or that a piece isn't missing, I'm okay to go and look at it. Whooo - that looks bad. R asks me to get a band aid, so I go the the van and get the first aid kit. We cleaned the cut, ran some cold water over it, then put some ice on it to help stop the bleeding. We weren't having a lot of luck, so we wrapped it up, and decided to go to the ER. By the time we get to the ER and go inside, the bleeding has stopped so we can get a good luck at the cut. It wasn't as bad as either of us feared and definitely didn't need stitches, so we left. On the way back home I have R stop at Walgreens so I can amp up our first aid supplies. Not exactly sure what will be a good fix for S's finger (she's awful about pulling off band aids if there's an actual wound underneath. Put a bandage on an imaginary boo boo and it's there for eternity). I end up with steri strips, knuckle and fingertip band aids, gauze pads, and new skin which is a liquid that seals to protect minor cuts and scrapes. My intention is to use all of the above on her finger, but we only end up getting the new skin and a steri strip on her finger. But it works. It's clean, it's protected..I'm happy with that.
So now that it's way past bedtime, we take the kids upstairs to go to bed. R tries to put S to bed and she's having one of those "I want Mommy" nights so that's not working. I go to tuck in T and I smash my toe on the bed frame. Now, normally this would be no big deal, but before we left Germany I dropped something on my toe, and my toenail did not fare well. When I hit my toe tonight, what's left of my toenail cracked right in half. I did manage not to utter even one swear word - unless you count BananaPants - and when T said, "Now Mom, you know after a day like today that you have to be more careful" I couldn't help but giggle. Possibly a bit hysterically, but hey - after a day like today, I think that's pretty good.
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