After Lily's nap - in the car... I blogged and read a book in the front seat - we played with our friends briefly before swim lessons. Our playdate was mostly without incident, but there was a bit of territorial squabbling (not unusual) and some shrieking when we had to leave certain toys upon our departure (not the norm for us, but not totally unexpected). Our swim lesson went well, and Miss Diana even checked out Lily Ruth's skull (she's a nurse) after I told the story of her fall.
We made it home. Lily Ruth made it clear that today was not a day for autonomous play. She needed attention and lots of nursing. That's fine with Mama. It just means that those pesky dishes will have to sit a bit longer, and dinner will have to wait until Daddy gets home. We played on the play mats with the doggie (Silly Doggie!), sat on Mama's lap to watch Dragon Tales and sat on the edge of the pool while the doggie swam. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.
Then we came inside and it was time for a rousing round of 'Chase the Pets'. A game that starts off quietly with Lily Ruth wandering over to a cat or dog, squatting down, murmuring into their fur and waiting for a response. If no response is forthcoming, she ups the ante by patting a face or grabbing a tail. Eventually, the pet gets tired of the prodding and wanders off. Now the chase is on! Lily Ruth trundles after the pet making happy noises and proclaiming 'ca-T', 'tikka, tikka', and 'DOGGIE!'. I usually monitor the first two stages of the game closely in case any of the pets REALLY don't want to play, but they are on their own once they start to move. All of them are quite capable of staying away from her if they want to. Yesterday's game started out with Bing, but he stopped playing, so Lily ended up following Keely back to the nursery. Then came the 'THUD' that every parent knows and the wail that they know even better. I raced back to her room to find a concerned dog, the area rug in a big wad (dammit, doggie!) and my baby on her back and PISSED OFF. She had been chasing Keely, but had gotten caught up in the wadded up rug (the dog bunches it up when she naps in there) and had fallen backward and whacked her head.
I scooped her up and checked her over. Aside from a knot near the base of her skull, the only obvious injury seemed to involve her pride and her feelings. I gave out kisses and 'poor baby' s like they were going out of style. We settled back in to nurse some more then drank cool water and discussed our options for play. That's when Daddy came home. I was displaced by a need for Daddy love, so I started dinner. Soon afterward came the meltdown that signals time for bed. It was only 7:30 (she goes to bed between 8:30 and 9), but we decided to go for it. Something about her behavior bugged me, so I called Miss Diana to talk it out. She said to go wake up Lily Ruth while we discussed it.
Apparently, one mild head bonk is not a big deal (duh), but two in one day CAN be a big deal. During the second hit, the brain can bounce back onto the site of the first hit (already sore, but not yet in need of medical attention) and cause a bruise. Coupled with the crabbiness and her request to go to bed early, Diana said to go get her checked out, so we packed ourselves off to the children's ER. Biggest surprise of the night? The ER was clean, quiet, quick and staffed with wonderful, friendly people. We were in & out in no time at all. Lily Ruth was declared healthy and happy by a medical professional, and we went home.
We slept in this morning...
We took our time getting up, getting bathed and getting ready. We finally made it to Parent's Day Out around 11:30. Another round of top-of-the-lungs shrieking commenced. I bolted.
I am WORN OUT, ya'll! I feel like an old lady. All I can think about is sleep, so I guess I'll go do that... OR, I could piddle away an hour or so on the internet then drag myself up, clean the kitchen, go get Lily Ruth, go to swim lessons, arrange dinner of some sort, then fall into bed around 10 or 11 tonight... that sounds much more likely...
No comments:
Post a Comment