Crack to the Head

Long time no blog my peeps...the Shorties have kept me ultra busy [but that just gives me more blog fodder]. Can you believe that it's already October? Where did August and September go? [Is it June yet?]

The laatest saga [could be trauma at some people's houses but at my house it was par for the course] happened on Monday. We were having a lovely day, at home, finally unpacking some little boxes [which were simply junk traps - we could have thrown them out without opening them since we threw them away after opening them] and hanging out. I had just cleaned the living room [yes, I do clean up...sometimes] and I was working on getting Emma's room in order [OMG....could she have anymore junk?] when I heard Gabe cry. He ran in there and told me that his sister pushed him and that he hit his head. Now his cry was not a I-just-impaled-my-head-on-the-kicking-tee-laying-in-the-living-room cry but more like an I-am-really-mad kind of cry. I asked if he was OK, he answered yes, and we both went about our business. Fastforward about 30 minutes....I was in the shower and Craig yelled, "Did you know Gabe has hit his head?", to which I answer, "YES!", to which he answers "Did you know he's bleeding?" [Well let's think about that for a moment...Yes, Craig, I did know he was bleeding but I decided to run a bubble bath, eat bon bons, and have a glass of wine...] "NO! I didn't know he was bleeding!!! Oh my gosh!! Is it bad? Does he need stitches? Is he ok?", to which Craig answers [with one answer to all of my questions] "I don't know." [You don't know if he's ok? Is he breathing? Is he alert? Is blood squirting from his head? I mean really...it isn't rocket science brother. You've scared me half to death the least you can do is give me a quick assessment of the injury while I'm getting the soap out of my eyes!] Next thing I know, Gabe was in the shower with me. Remember me telling you about Cooper's bloody nose and how I had to leave the room? I don't do blood...at all...for any reason. Now Craig was wanting me to wash the wound out and decide if he needed stiches - WHICH REQUIRED LOOKING AT THE BLOOD! Literally, with one eye, I made an executive decision: He needed stiches. [And I could have needed them too since I shaved my legs in about two seconds - sorry for you visual learners.]

We weighed our options:
A. We could go to the doctor's office but they were not sure they could do it without Gabe getting agitated.
B. We could go to the ER @ KMRMC.
C. We could go to the ER @ CRMC.
D. We could grab the duct tape and crazy glue. [It was a thought...]

Once we ruled out option A and C we were left to decide between B and D. [And thinking that I was going to have to pay the ER - AGAIN - made me want to decide on a B&E at a bank but then I thought better....]. I could not find the duct tape or the crazy glue so we were left with option B - the ER at the hospital in KM. [And I never imagined that at 2pm on a Monday afternoon that we would have to wait soooooo long to see a doctor] I am fairly certain the man in the set of chairs near us had tuberculosis or some other hideous and highly contagious funk. I'm also quite certain that Craig and I sat as far away as we could from everyone in there.

So almost 4 hours later Gabe ended up with two little staples nestled neatly under his curls. He has refused all week to allow us to look at the boo boo on his head. I am just hoping that the staples are not corroded or that the wound has not opened up at some point. All of this to say that this crack to the head [as he most eloquently told a woman at church] has not slowed him down at all. He has continued to climb, jump, run, play, and yes, drive me absolutely crazy :) Love that kid.

Things have been as crazy as ever at the Short house this week. Thankful for those four smiling faces [and yes, Craig too]...they so make it all worth it!

Life is good...Thanks be to God :)