Easter (and our first flesh wound)
We aren't particularly observant of religious holidays of any stripe, but we planned a fun Easter outing with our friends Emily and John and their girls, complete with egg-hunting in the National Arboretum and picture-taking in front of the azaleas.
Of course, one hour before we were supposed to meet them, Henry attempted an unapproved-by-the-Olympic-committee twisting dismount from the bed and split his chin open on the bed frame. He freaked out, I freaked out, there was blood on our carefully-planned matching family-photo clothes . . . good times. Henry calmed down pretty quickly once we stopped trying to mess with it (why do toddlers love Band-Aids so much?) but it was also pretty clear that he needed stitches. This time I knew better than to even bother calling the pediatrician's office, so I immediately called Heidi the housecall nurse, who told us she'd be over in half an hour. Hmm, load my screaming, bleeding toddler into the car to wait all morning at the ER or walk-in clinic? Or have Heidi come straight to my house? Love. That. Woman.
Heidi fixed him right up with some liquid stitches and steri-strips, despite Henry's totally psychotic screaming and flailing. Jesus, this kid is stubborn. He's been the same way since birth, as Karl and Gigi got to see on the second day of his life, when the pediatrician tried to deal with his frenulum and Henry clamped down with the jaws of death. This time Karl and I basically had to body-pin him to the dining room table, even though nothing Heidi was doing should have caused him any pain at all. Just let Heidi glue you up, child. WE ARE TRYING TO HELP YOU.
Anyway, we got Henry patched up, calmed down, into adorable Easter clothes, and over to the arboretum. The azaleas were spectacular, but I was slightly stressed out because the child kept running and falling down face-first and we couldn't find our friends at first and I was just a weeeeeee bit hormonally amped-up from, you know, being pregnant and having my firstborn bleeding all over the place.
But how cute are toddlers in flowers? You can only see the blood on his collar if you look really closely.
Then we took them across the road to a big field to let them find Easter eggs in the grass. Emily is on maternity leave and has time to do things like fill eggs with candy and make cute baskets. Henry's strategy was to find one egg, then plunk himself in the grass and wait for Lily to bring him candy. It was surprisingly effective.
Henry had never had so much refined sugar in all his life. But he had survived his first flesh wound, so he'd earned it. Mommy and Daddy probably earned something a little stronger (man, I miss drinking).
Of course, one hour before we were supposed to meet them, Henry attempted an unapproved-by-the-Olympic-committee twisting dismount from the bed and split his chin open on the bed frame. He freaked out, I freaked out, there was blood on our carefully-planned matching family-photo clothes . . . good times. Henry calmed down pretty quickly once we stopped trying to mess with it (why do toddlers love Band-Aids so much?) but it was also pretty clear that he needed stitches. This time I knew better than to even bother calling the pediatrician's office, so I immediately called Heidi the housecall nurse, who told us she'd be over in half an hour. Hmm, load my screaming, bleeding toddler into the car to wait all morning at the ER or walk-in clinic? Or have Heidi come straight to my house? Love. That. Woman.
Heidi fixed him right up with some liquid stitches and steri-strips, despite Henry's totally psychotic screaming and flailing. Jesus, this kid is stubborn. He's been the same way since birth, as Karl and Gigi got to see on the second day of his life, when the pediatrician tried to deal with his frenulum and Henry clamped down with the jaws of death. This time Karl and I basically had to body-pin him to the dining room table, even though nothing Heidi was doing should have caused him any pain at all. Just let Heidi glue you up, child. WE ARE TRYING TO HELP YOU.
Anyway, we got Henry patched up, calmed down, into adorable Easter clothes, and over to the arboretum. The azaleas were spectacular, but I was slightly stressed out because the child kept running and falling down face-first and we couldn't find our friends at first and I was just a weeeeeee bit hormonally amped-up from, you know, being pregnant and having my firstborn bleeding all over the place.
But how cute are toddlers in flowers? You can only see the blood on his collar if you look really closely.
Then we took them across the road to a big field to let them find Easter eggs in the grass. Emily is on maternity leave and has time to do things like fill eggs with candy and make cute baskets. Henry's strategy was to find one egg, then plunk himself in the grass and wait for Lily to bring him candy. It was surprisingly effective.
Henry had never had so much refined sugar in all his life. But he had survived his first flesh wound, so he'd earned it. Mommy and Daddy probably earned something a little stronger (man, I miss drinking).
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