What goes up, must come down
We took down Christmas decorations today. It felt a little late in the season, but it was the first time Daniel and I had coordinated our energy levels since the official holidays were over.
I packed up all the inside stuff, except for a few things that I left out "just for fun" so I could find them the minute the attic door closed with all the Christmas tubs safely put away. (Come on! You know you do it, too! Who says you can't have reindeer candle holders out in March?)
After I finished my duties, I went out to help Daniel put away the outside lights. I was rolling up lights and Dillon was behind me on the front porch.
(Go ahead and start humming the scary-movie-Jaws-theme-type music.)
Dillon (not so proficient on his feet) took some steps toward me. I (also, not so proficient on my feet) turned to help him. It was too late.
He flipped off the porch, fell down the three steps, landed with a solid CRACK on his forehead, slid down the pavement on his eyebrow, and came to rest on his shoulder.
(Now count to three and listen to the blissful silence.)
Cue an ear-piercing scream. Everything else is drowned out, which is good, because I don't remember what I said.
I scooped him up and ran inside. We walked around, both howling, for a minute, then we sat down on the floor so I could survey the damage.
An angry red scrape was puffing up across his temple. He had a little blood in his eyebrow, and pink streaks down his cheek. A knot the size of a quarter was coming up near his hairline. He calmed down and started playing with his puzzle.
I just watched him. All evening. During dinner. During his bath. At bedtime. His scrape had crusted over, and the knot on his head had turned purple. But he had forgotten all about it. He had moved on to other things like whether or not he would get to take his soccer ball into his crib.
I tucked him in, and he gave me a sleepy smile. Kids are resilient, right?
Could I borrow some of that resiliency?
I packed up all the inside stuff, except for a few things that I left out "just for fun" so I could find them the minute the attic door closed with all the Christmas tubs safely put away. (Come on! You know you do it, too! Who says you can't have reindeer candle holders out in March?)
After I finished my duties, I went out to help Daniel put away the outside lights. I was rolling up lights and Dillon was behind me on the front porch.
(Go ahead and start humming the scary-movie-Jaws-theme-type music.)
Dillon (not so proficient on his feet) took some steps toward me. I (also, not so proficient on my feet) turned to help him. It was too late.
He flipped off the porch, fell down the three steps, landed with a solid CRACK on his forehead, slid down the pavement on his eyebrow, and came to rest on his shoulder.
(Now count to three and listen to the blissful silence.)
Cue an ear-piercing scream. Everything else is drowned out, which is good, because I don't remember what I said.
I scooped him up and ran inside. We walked around, both howling, for a minute, then we sat down on the floor so I could survey the damage.
An angry red scrape was puffing up across his temple. He had a little blood in his eyebrow, and pink streaks down his cheek. A knot the size of a quarter was coming up near his hairline. He calmed down and started playing with his puzzle.
I just watched him. All evening. During dinner. During his bath. At bedtime. His scrape had crusted over, and the knot on his head had turned purple. But he had forgotten all about it. He had moved on to other things like whether or not he would get to take his soccer ball into his crib.
I tucked him in, and he gave me a sleepy smile. Kids are resilient, right?
Could I borrow some of that resiliency?
posted by Amanda
at
7:54 PM
7 Comments:
Too bad poor little Dillon had to come tumbling down. It probably hurt you twice as much as it hurt him.
I took a little spill of my own today. In the parking lot at Target. Yep, just call me Grace.
seriously? okay, that makes me feel better.
adults falling down is so much funnier than little kids. but i wouldn't have laughed at you! promise!
I swear, between you and DaMomma, I'm going to have blog-related heart failure!
Awwwww. Poor little guy.
But hey, congratulations are in order--you made it through the 12 days of Christmas! I've always told my husband you're not supposed to take down the decorations until the feast of Epiphany...
Since you already know about me flinging your niece down the dry cleaner's driveway, I'll instead tell you that I once tripped over some pants I was holding and about to buy...as I was walking up to the register.
The way I fell, you'd think someone had Tonya-Harding-ed me.
Awwwww!!! Well I'm glad you're all doing better now. :-)
Baby head bumps are the worst--they ARE HEART STOPPING I swear. But yes kids, may forget about them --Mommies never will hehe =)
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