Soooo...trying to dive back in after taking almost a month off seems a little intimidating. Almost seems easier to just bury my head in the sand and pretend like writing never existed. No?
Not too much happened in the first half of February. Life has just chugged along at a rapid and even pace. Evan has had climbing on top of the table to get whatever she wants mastered for quite awhile now, but one day I came around the corner to find banana peels on the floor and the banana on a plate under the dining room table
Seems she figured out how to get a snack, open it, and serve it to herself in the place she deemed most comfortable. Also, she's figured out that Schlotzsky's makes a darn good pizza.
We also had a movie night one night. I had bought a big bag of pizza rolls for the Super Bowl and they didn't get opened. So one night I made them for dinner (which was served on the couch, after an inverted schedule of baths first, hence the jammies) and let Luke pick a movie to watch as we dined on our fine cuisine. He picked Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Evan actually watched most of the movie. I was impressed. At one point she started feeling affectionate and started kissing on Bubba, putting her arm around him and rubbing his head.
I died.
Valentine's day was where it all went down hill. Sure. They looked cute enough in the beginning. It took 20 of these shots...
to get a semi decent one at Cindy's before I left for work.
(I embroidered her shirt- "all a twitter")
Wednesday night I stayed up late getting the table all ready and cupcakes made so that we'd be able to have a nice family dinner when we came home on Thursday. While mixing the cupcakes, I started smelling something funny. Then then mixer started to slow down. Then it stopped and I realized it was smoking. On the plus side, I didn't have to clean it since the whole thing went in the trash.
Thursday- Valentine's day- didn't go as planned. The boyfriend and I had lunch and a talk I wasn't expecting. Then he didn't show up for dinner. My little family carried on with our shrimp and cupcakes, and two little people had the time of their life with presents and treats.
I got Evan in bed, cleaned up after her cupcake massacre, and I got Luke showered and all the way to bed. That's when tragedy struck. He knows we have a rule of not jumping off the bed. Why do we have that rule? So he won't get hurt. But on Thursday night he wasn't jumping off the bed. He was a helicopter. Which was exactly like it sounds. He....twirl jumped?... off his bed before I could stop him, and landed right on his arm. Immediately he howled in pain, and we blew off story time for an ice pack and a cartoon. I was sure that he would sleep it off and Friday morning life would be normal.
Nope. He woke up twice in the middle of the night screaming in pain, but by mid morning he was reportedly playing just fine with it wrapped in an ace bandage. I chalked it up to a slight bruise or strain and we went on our merry way.
For the whole weekend.
By Monday he was still wincing and complaining that it hurt, so I finally called the dr and had his grandmother take him in. Sure enough, it's a buckle fracture. They got him in to an orthopedic specialist to set it, and now we are on day three of this.
My boy. In a cast. I couldn't have felt more guilty that I made him go the whole weekend in pain. I've been told lost that they probably couldn't have done anything Friday because of the swelling anyway, and we still would have had to go back Monday. But still. That's my baby.
And I can't believe that out of his group of friends, my mild mannered, non aggressive, tender little boy was the first one to get a cast. Oh the irony.
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