A Birthday, A Move, and a Trip to the ER (Part II)

First, it was my husband's birthday.  Because we lived in two oddly empty houses on his birthday, I decided to pack up the kids, come to the new house, and dive in to cake-baking.  It looked a little like this:

Blowing out candles looked a little like this:

Then we moved, finally.  And it looked a little like this:

Check out the shirts, inspired by Cheri at Blog This Mom, won by Jenn and Juggling Life, and created by Trish at This is Trish's Blog.  It was a collaborative effort.

Then there was a little bit of this:

Although this time it wasn't at the beach, it was in our living room, and the landing didn't go over quite as well.  Let's just say, Patrick has never been so afraid in his life.  Tatum fell out of his arms on the landing, on her back, and her eyes rolled back.  

I was called downstairs to the scene.  I asked Tatum where it hurt.  She pointed to her forehead.  Again, she fell on her back so I was a bit worried that her brain had done a bounce on her forehead.  She whimpered, but didn't cry much, which is almost harder.  But she didn't seem too badly hurt.  More shocked than anything, like her Daddy.  

Then Tatum fell asleep.  Uh-huh.  About 5 minutes after the fall.  I know, I know.  We're not supposed to let them sleep after a head injury.  But it was extremely hot, it was around 2:00, and she may just have been truly tired.  She slept on the couch while we watched her breathe.

Then she woke up.  And vomited.  And vomited.  And vomited a third time.  She wasn't saying much more than a mumbled word here and there.

So Gran rushed over to take Chase, and we went to the ER.

Tatum vomited on the drive over as well.  

We got in.  It took over an hour to be seen.  But in that hour, our tiny little girl became much more like herself.  She sang.  She spelled words.  She went potty.  She smiled.  She talked on the phone.  We had a feeling things were going to be alright.

By the time we were seen, it had been about 4 and a half hours since the fall.  She was okay.

Here's a good lesson, besides not throwing your kids in the air anymore, (can I just tell you how utterly scared and terrible Patrick felt?), according to the ER doctor, if your child has a head injury and falls asleep and vomits, it's not necessarily reason enough to bring them in.  He said it was more important to go based on their behavior.  Are they acting abnormal, which in her case was yes.  I'm no doctor, so follow your own gut, but I had always thought falling asleep was a no-no, and then vomiting meant, holy crap, get the kid in NOW.  Tough call.  We called about 147 doctor and nurse friends and they all said, go to the ER.  Glad we did.  Even better, that she is just fine.

Ta-Da!  I'm okay!

And here they are, the next day looking, and acting as cute as ever.  Thank God.

Happy Father's Day

Do You Ever Feel Like Your Ass Is Stuck In A Bucket?

My absence can be explained by this, my ass is stuck in a bucket.  I'm walking around boxes to get to more boxes to pack new boxes only to forget what's in said boxes.  You see, we've moved so many times this year that I thought it would be okay to save our old boxes.  Cool.  Until the husband throws the VERY MOST FRAGILE-EST of things on the floor because the box read "Laundry Supplies" (awfully light for laundry supplies, ya think?)  My bad.  But I'm just sick of moving, so I'm doing a crap-ass job.  

We've closed escrow on our new home.  The moving journey will soon be over.  The marital stress of putting the brakes on our almost new life in Colorado was huge.  But now, the peace my husband and I have found in this decision is better than marriage counseling.   Getting through our recent stress is like yoga, a massage, zen, and a glass of wine all rolled up, yo-ma-zen-wine.  And quite frankly, who doesn't need more yomazenwine in their life?  It's not about the house, but more about what it means for our family.

But before we clang glasses in final celebration, we have packing and tripping over boxes for 9 more days.  You know when you know that you're going on a vacation, so you start saving up all of your cute clothes, because you want them to be clean for the trip?  So you wear all of your dorky clothes that you just know won't be coming along on vacation.  That's where we are, but instead of clothes, it's random food in the pantry/freezer, toys for the kids, toiletries, etc..  I need to pack everything, but in phases.  So the in between phase feels sort of like walking around with a bucket on my ass.  You know the feeling, right?

Wordless Wednesday

(Photos compliments of my Mom, Trish.  The next day her camera got destroyed in the "trunk" of her hard-top convertible.  R.I.P. Mr. Nikon.  Your memory (card that is) lives on.)

Sorry Ladies, He's Taken

For as long as I've known my husband, he has traveled for work.  In the early days of courting me, he would often come home with goodies he picked up along his travels.  A guy who can shop for his woman is pretty hard to beat.

Then, the kids came along.  The shopping breaks went on.  His good excuse is that he tries to fly home sooner to see the family, so there's been no time for shopping.  Okay, okay.  I guess I'll buy that.

So when a recent snaffoo in travel arrangements left him stuck in Portland for many extra hours, guess what he did?

Bingo.  And there's no sales tax, so he was extra giddy.

He brought these lovely purchases home for his wife:

3 dresses (which look cuter on, than on the hanger):

A (bumblebee) top

A pair of camouflage bermuda shorts

And he didn't forget the kids...how cute are these?

And my new FAVORITES ...

I'm feeling lucky today.  He'll probably be feeling lucky tonight too.  ;)  So, can you guess where he shopped?