The following post is a writing catastrophe. I don't care.
Well, it was my parents' 50th anniversary this weekend. We went out for dinner with them on their actual anniversary. Tonight, there was a party for all of the extended family. Good Food + Good Family = Good Times.
Or not quite so much.
Tonight, J took a tumble. He didn't exactly fall down the stairs; he fell on the stairs. Early into the evening at my parents' anniversary party. He decided to try to walk down like a big boy and, though we were right there, we just didn't react quickly enough. He fell and banged his head on the hardwood railing, putting his top teeth partway through his bottom lip.
We carried our bleeding little boy up to the bathroom and tried to stop the bleeding and keep the swelling down. We offered popsicles and cold water. He was unimpressed. He cuddled in, rubbing his face against me and smearing blood all over himself and my good outfit. I was glad that I didn't wear the pretty white dress with the blue flowers that I was contemplating; blood will come out of the blue shirt I had on with greater ease.
After J stopped bleeding, he was still in a bad mood. He was hurt and he hadn't slept well today. He was just exhausted. His lip swelled up, and he didn't want to eat anything. He was hungry. He was making strange, and there were many people milling around. And he had a diaper rash, which just can't be comfortable.
He had a dose of Tylenol.
He ran around like a little maniac. He screamed and cried. A few people shot us dirty looks; like we could do anything about the fussing baby. He just would not be happy. We nearly left before food. But we plugged away, managed to eat (H ate first, then I got to eat after) and even partake in some dessert before we took little Mr. Sunshine home for sleep.
He was asleep within 5 minutes. We drove around for a bit just to make sure he was out cold, and then came home. He sleeps peacefully in his crib. I hope his mouth feels better tomorrow.
As for me, the tonsillitis is back. Again. (ACK!) Why won't they take them out? Oh, that's right. Because they are stupid. My throat is bleeding, and it feels like little popcorn shards are cutting into my glands. It's a delightful sensation, I tell you; you should all try it. Well, at least my doctor should try it. I bet he'd have someone take his tonsils out in a big hurry!
I am going to go now. To bed with me. Into the Winnie-the-Pooh nightshirt that I am far too old to continue to wear but insist on wearing anyway since I own it and it is comfy and fits. It makes me feel better, and it's only for sleep anyway. (Though I did wear it as a T-shirt at the grocery store recently; no one batted an eye.) Cuddle up in my nice comfy bed, put my MP3 player on, and ... SNORE!!
It's a good life.
Maybe my tonsils will be a bit better tomorrow. I hope they at least stop bleeding through the night. And I hope J is in better spirits in the morning.
Morning.
Morning is good. Fresh and clean; full of promise. Everything is new, and anything that's gone before is done. Sunrise, and a fresh start.
Yes. Morning. Morning is good.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you.
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