Blog Archives for category Scares
Why not have it be Christmas Day?
So last night, Owen was being Owen and dove into the big beanbag in the living room, but then…rolled off? fell off?…and somehow landed wrong on his arm. Tom missed it, I missed it, and Uncle Rob barely saw it so we’re not entire sure what happened. All we know is that he was complaining that it really hurt. Tom looked at it and moved it around and there wasn’t any screaming so we were pretty sure it wasn’t broken. So we iced it and gave him some Advil. Of course, Owen being Owen, he continued playing around and bumping it and saying it hurt, so we made him sit still in the chair. He seemed to be fine overall and making cookies for Santa took his mind off it so we didn’t think much else about it.
So this morning we opened presents and he still hadn’t mentioned it. I had honestly forgotten about it. But then he was trying to put some Legos together—and was complaining that he couldn’t because his hand hurt. Hoo boy. Tom tried to move it around some and it seemed more painful than it had last night, so we figured since he has a high threshold for pain it must REALLY hurt, so we decided to have Tom take him to the ER.
Thankfully they were the only ones there and the whole thing went very quickly. But he had taken his new Minecraft characters just in case.
Apparently when you visit the ER on Christmas you get to pick a toy!
He picked this for Katie! Awww!
And??? It wasn’t broken. Just a sprain with some bruising that Motrin should help. PHEW!
So the kids were in bed, David was in the bedroom, and mom, Tom, and I were just sitting in the living room visiting and whatnot…when we heard a loud CRASH BOOM BANG. Mom thought David had fallen—but then we heard crying. Oh no! Katie had fallen out of bed!! (She did just fine the first night and during her nap, but she obviously was more of a wiggle worm tonight. We hadn’t taken any precautions because, well, we forgot, and because she HAD already done just fine.)
Tom sprinted down the hall and came out carrying a whimpering Katie. He said he found her laying on the floor with her legs against the closet. We figured she must have gone over the edge head first, flipping over so her legs hit the closet (which would account for the thuds and bangs we heard). Poor Katie. While Tom was comforting her, I was putting rolled up blankets in her bed (under the sheets) as bumpers and then he stayed in there with her for a good half hour. Other than being scared, she was no worse for the wear…thankfully.
I fell down the stairs in this house and twisted both ankles (read about it here).
I slipped on the stairs in our Michigan rental while carrying Owen as a baby (I’m sure I wrote about it but I cannot find the link).
And…I just now missed a few steps and crashed down two steps into the landing hitting the wall…while carrying Katie, of course! We’re both fine (she was just scared; I skinned my knee and slightly twisted my ankle) but an hour later my back was screaming and drugs were taken. Three hours later I made the BIIIIIG mistake of trying to stretch out my ankle by rotating it—and I literally saw stars. Crap.
I’m still not sure how it happened because I am über careful on the stairs—I count each step up and down each time (whether I’m carrying a kid or not), I keep one arm on the wall to brace myself, plus I usually look at the stairs/my feet…
But I have now fallen down stairs while carrying both kids.
I HATE STAIRS.
So a few days ago, this rash erupted on Katie.
Freaked me out, of course. I assumed it was just some random kid thing so gave her Benedryl…and emailed my sister who knows all things dermatological. She asked if Katie had been sick recently… Why, yes, she had been. She guessed it wasn’t anything to worry about and to just keep an eye on it. Luckily it didn’t appear to be terribly itchy (I caught Katie rubbing around her neck once but that was about it.)
The next morning, the torso rash was just about gone but there were new spots on her arms and legs. Freaky. Another day (this morning) and it’s all about gone.
At a quick glance, this really scared the bejesus out of me. I’m leaving the shower curtain closed from now on. Stupid palm tree fronds.
We were headed to Sam’s Club and I had Owen get in first while I went back to get Katie. Buckled her in and left. On the way there I noticed in my rear view mirror that he was sleeping so at a light I pulled out my camera to get a picture…and noticed he wasn’t buckled in! I had completely forgotten. After a moment of pure panic, I realized we were almost there so by the time I could manage to pull off, I could almost be at Sam’s Club. Lesson learned…always buckle Owen in first OR leave his door open so I stop to check on him.
I thought I was brushing dirt off Owen’s neck this morning (he had just been outside for a few minutes)…but it didn’t brush off. Okay, maybe it was dried dirt…so I used my nail. And it still wasn’t coming off.
OH MY GAWD IT WAS A TICK!!! EEK!!! (I’d never actually seen one in person but I was pretty sure that’s what it was.)
I only semi-panicked.
I scratched/pulled it off, took it to the kitchen where I put it on a bowl and took a picture of it (so I could make sure later), then squished it to death with a knife. Then Googling affirmed it was a tick. EWWWWW!!!
I checked out the rest of his body and didn’t find anything (and there was nothing on me or Maggie). But of course it had been on his neck right on a freckle so I was paranoid there was still tick pieces in his neck…so I got out the lighted magnifying glasses to try and see better—which didn’t really help but Owen loves them—and assured myself it was just a freckle.
I then emailed a pic to Tom and he said the mouth was still attached so that was good.
So, where the hell did it come from? It’s not like he’s been tromping through backwoods North Carolina. He plays in the back yard! It wasn’t too attached so it couldn’t have been on him for too long…
Yeah, so, I just got locked in the bathroom with Owen while Katie was roaming around ungated. (I thought she was gated in but then I heard her playing with the dog bowl and knew she was on the loose.)
Talk about trying to stay calm in a panic.
How did it happen? Well, the door knobs were off from a kid-locking-herself-in-during-play-group-incident earlier that morning and I hadn’t put them back on yet (no, we were never given the little keys to unlock the doors—and we’d tried to find some to buy but just never did). So I didn’t even think about it when I shut the door behind me to keep Katie out while I dealt with a diarrhea pull-up.
Talk about an instant all-over body sweat.
Okay. I can’t get the door open. Who do I call? Who is closest that might be home? I thought of any of the mommy group people who were just there but I knew the closest ones had kids napping…
Okay, I can get one pin out—if I can get them all I can take the door right off the hinges. Nope, the other two are stuck. Calling Tom was pointless since it would take him at least 45m to get home (and there’s not much he could do over the phone).
Who would know how to get the door off? Roger might, but he’s likely busy. Ursula—she could at least come get Katie and then—oh, duh—she could likely put the knob back on. So I called her and she wasn’t home (5m away) but was in town (15m) so as I was telling her what was going on I was still messing with the door and trying not to sound terribly panicked…when I somehow managed to move something just enough to allow me to open the door.
Wipe the sweat off my forehead as I thank Ursula for answering her phone.
Then race to find Katie…who was happily playing in the playroom.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
And put “buying keys” on our shopping list.
Katie just fell off the couch. From what I saw rushing into the room from 10′ away (I was in the office and she was on the couch), she landed face first on a blanket so wasn’t hurt and only cried for about five seconds (I think of shock more than anything) but of course now I feel horrible. She’s just getting too wiggly/mobile to leave alone—even propped up/locked in with pillows.
We learned last night that Owen doesn’t like thunderstorms—he never used to be bothered by them so this is new. We had a whopper roll through last night, shaking the house, super loud lightning, etc… I got up to pee at 5 and saw his light was on so I went in and he was crying. He’s apparently very concerned as to where the sun is.
He calmed down pretty quickly and let me cuddle him (which I fully enjoyed) but neither of us fell asleep as he kept chattering off and on about the storm, the rain (the sound of rain), his new cars, the movie Cars, etc.
I finally left him at 6, just as Tom was finishing with Katie…as I was laying down, I heard Tom in Owen’s room. Huh? I got up and they were in the bathroom trying to pee. Yes, in the two minutes since I had left Owen’s room, he had turned on his light again. He didn’t have to pee so was diapered and put down again. Ten minutes later I heard him get out of bed so I went back in there. I think we both finally fell asleep around 7 and got up at 8.
It’s going to be a long day.
FYI: If anyone in this house breaks their neck, it will surely be due to this damnable bouncy chair that is ALWAYS underfoot, no matter where it is.
That moment when you wake up at 6a and realize you didn’t have to get up at 0-dark-30 to feed your baby? Scary as hell…yet priceless.
Nothing much scarier then losing your balance/tripping when 8.5 months pregnant and trying to avoid landing on your child who is being obstinate and laying under you.
I’m fine—with no idea how I actually fell or what exactly caused me to trip or how I managed to land without hurting myself or Owen in any way—but I scared the crap out of Tom who was downstairs and came charging up to see me on the floor swearing and Owen just standing there like nothing happened. Of course Tom yelled (not at Owen but just in general) at which point Owen THEN burst into tears…
Hopefully Owen learned he needs to listen to me…I had asked him to get in the bath and he was refusing by laying down in the hallway. I had counted to three and he didn’t budge, so I was getting up to pick him up…when the drama ensued.
So I’ve been having blood pressure issues lately. Not anything that I have symptoms for, but just measuring a little on the high side (just above normal) when I was in for appointments. They had me come in on a non-appointment day in case it was just a case of White Coat Hypertension…but it was slightly high then, too. So the doc wanted me to watch it and I had to go buy a cuff and take my blood pressure twice a day.
Well, I started to get really freaked out because the readings were really high. Like not just a tad above normal high, but up to crazy scary Stage 2 high (like one day was 190/110 first thing after waking up in the morning). :??: 88| I tried not to get TOO worried, but how could I not?!? I took it religiously for a week, and it was fairly consistently high (anywhere from pre-hypertension to Stage 2 as I said). Of course, the spiked high readings freaked me out more (since I’ve never had blood pressure issues before and these were taken when I was completely and totally relaxed) so I made an appointment with my OB. In the meantime, I went to Walgreens to get my pressure taken, to see if maybe my machine was off—and it wasn’t (so, good and bad).
Of course, the morning of my appointment, my blood pressure in the office was completely normal. Good, but…what the hell? And the doc looked at my logs and said in a blood pressure world of black and white, I’m gray.
My BP at the office was completely normal…but I have the logs of high and crazy high. He definitely didn’t want to put me on BP-lowering meds in case there wasn’t really a problem because then the drugs would lower it too much and that is a problem as well. So for the time being, I’m continuing to monitor it while watching for specific warning signs and trying to drink more water/get more exercise/watch my salt intake. And I get to go back every two weeks instead of four…in addition to my every four weeks trip to the fetal specialist.
He didn’t seem worried so I’ll try not to be as well.
I really liked him, too, so that was good (because on my last visit, I found out that the OB I had seen twice and liked is leaving in three months). And he told me he wants me to see doctors—not midwives, which I had been scheduled to do.
AM I HAVING FUN YET?
He has never really been terribly inquisitive—like pulling things out of cupboards, opening kitchen drawers, getting into stuff under the sink, etc.—so we honestly haven’t really worried too much about putting things away.
So just now, we were upstairs and I was in the bedroom and he was out and about and came into the room rubbing his eyes and his face was all wet and my first thought was he had been crying and was snotty—but he wasn’t crying. And then I got closer and smelled chemicals on him. 88|
I immediately tossed him in the tub and rinsed his face and head and tried to do my best with his eyes.
Yeah. He got into the oxyclean spray carpet cleaner. Apparently he likes to play with triggers now |-| and grabbed it off the floor and was playing with the trigger and sprayed himself in the face.
Fortunately, he seemed to be fine. I kept a watch on his eyes, and they didn’t even get pink (let alone red) so I think it mostly just got on his face.
So tonight—and from now on—we make sure everything is put away.
We got home from dinner and I was messing around in the kitchen and Owen was playing in the living room and Tom was upstairs. Then Tom came back down and asked where Owen was. I said in the living room. But, nope, no Owen. So we started calling for him—which usually brings him running—but nothing. And we didn’t hear his pitter-patter upstairs (which is where he normally is when he disappears). We checked another favorite hiding place—the closet—and nothing. And he still wasn’t showing himself.
We started getting a littler nervous, even though we knew he had to be in the house—but your mind still goes crazy. Tom checked the garage while I ran upstairs…and nothing. He was totally gone.
The only place left was the basement—the gate was open, but it’s almost always open and he NEVER goes down there. In fact, he’s only been down there once with us. So Tom ran down there, calling him…and guess who was sitting at my computer giggling? :>>
Hopefully this is the first and last time we lose him. :o