Explanation

I've received several requests to explain what the heck happened with the car accident/pic I posted a few nights ago.

I guess I should first start off by saying no one got hurt and we're all fine. In fact, the boys and I weren't even with Jon when the accident happened, he was by himself. When I posted that pic, I was mostly doing it to tease Jon, since he's always bragged about how he's never been in a single accident (where he's driving anyway) himself. I didn't quite realize it could alarm folks into thinking any of us might be hurt! DUH. :)

So anyway - it's nothing major, the car actually looks worse off than the accident itself. Jon was pulling out of a parking lot and ran into another car while turning left. He didn't see her coming at all - there's a bit of a blind corner just before, and given how much damage her car and ours took, I think she was probably speeding around that corner. But, it doesn't really matter.

Jon called the cops just to be safe - they didn't write out a report, just checked to make sure both drivers were fine, told them to exchange insurance info, and go along their merry ways. Jon actually continued onto rugby practice after the accident - so that should tell you how much he was not injured at all!

Now we're just waiting to schedule a time to take the car into the shop to get it fixed. Thankfully, we have the two other cars so we don't really need to worry too much about it. But, since I'll be incapacitated for the next couple of weeks, we'll probably take the car in early tomorrow morning to get the work started and so I can help Jon with dropping the kids off at school, picking him up from the shop, etc.

Thanks to everyone for checking in and making sure we're all right! :)

Parenting fail #2587

Jon and I were both rushing around the house getting ready for work this morning. As always, we were juggling both kids at the same time, sharing responsibilities in getting them fed, changed and ready for school. While I was in the bathroom, I had laid Callum down on our bed with a couple toys to play with, like I always do. I could hear Jon come in and out of the room, talking and cooing and playing with Callum every time he stopped by. A few more minutes rolled by with Callum grunting and cooing and doing his normal chatty ritual and then all of a sudden I heard a loud and heavy THUD.

Followed by some pretty loud cries. :(

Both Jon and I came running - exclaiming "Oh God!" in the process (Jon beat me to him, as I had been sitting on the toilet when it happened). Poor little Callum had fallen off the bed! It was an immediate deja vu and reminder of the time Logan fell off (me and off) the bed. Ugh.

Apparently during one of Jon's cooing sessions with Callum, he had placed him on his tummy. Callum is pretty squirmy and strong - pushing off on anything he can get a hold of - yet we hadn't seen him make it all the way across the bed before. But, I guess those days are now over - since it appears he was able to scoot all the way across the bed before falling off the edge.

Yeesh.

Jon was doing a great job at calming him down, but I really wanted to make sure Callum was ok and wasn't heading into concussion territory. So I nursed him (which helped calm him down even more), then gave him a bottle after that (which he gladly gulped down). He seemed to be totally normal but I still had Jon do a quick "follow my finger" test to make sure he was watching and tracking with his eyes fine too (he was). At any rate, through all of this, Jon thought I was being a little too overprotective and worried about the whole thing - telling me Callum was fine and not to worry.

When we dropped Logan, it was VERY upsetting (granted, it was in the middle of the night and he was only a month old, but still). It was a pretty traumatic experience for both of us - being brand new parents, we felt like we had COMPLETELY failed our child. :(

This time around, however, we were much more methodical and, dare I say, less emotional about it. It was still traumatic for everyone (poor Callum had it the worst I think) - but I don't think it affected us quite the same as with Logan. Jon even commented how it didn't feel like it was as big of a deal this time around.

Oh, how times have changed! ;-)

I told Callum's teacher when we got to school (which she was shocked about - that I would actually admit and tell her about it, not that it happened), mostly because I wanted her to keep an eye on him just to make sure he didn't act strange the rest of the day. I'm happy to report he did just fine and was his old normal self the entire day.

And, since we're on the topic of parenting.... thought I'd leave you with this little gem. Quite the entertainment, particularly since I know we've met parents like one or the other and/or have demonstrated some of these qualities ourselves! Enjoy. :)

Shit.

Logan and I got home tonight to a house smelling of shit. I thought oh great, one of the cats didn't cover up their poop again! Ugh! But, as I turned the corner to let Lola out of her crate, I saw the splatter of shit across the floor of our den.

And then another splatter closer to the sliding glass door.

And then another.

OMFG it was awful.

I quickly let Odin out (he was looking sheepishly guilty!) and then had Lola go out the front door and around the house to the back (so she wouldn't run into the puddles and track it all over the house in 15 seconds flat). I then ran back inside just in time to catch Logan walking thru the piles of soupy shit.

His shoes were suctioning to the floor and he couldn't figure out why.

STOP!

I hoisted him up as fast as I could, stripped his shoes off, carried him to the master bathroom (where I had to PEE like nobody's business) and locked us in the room. My mind was racing. How the hell was I going to clean up this house while keeping a very fast and mobile toddler out of that shit?

The big jacuzzi tub in our bathroom was calling my name. And Logan was already throwing his toys in as if to say, I'm ready Mom! Let's take a bath!

So I stripped him down, filled the tub and then did the unthinkable.... I left my kid to play in the tub on his own while I raced around the house gathering cleaning supplies and assessing the damage.

To my horror, Logan's room was also hit. And because he has a rug in there, it was really bad. :( My guess is, Odin had his first diarrhea attack in Logan's room (where he likes to hang out and sleep during the day). When he realized it, he ran to the den to try and get outside but since we keep them locked in the house during the day, he couldn't get out. So, he had a few more accidents near the door. Just ONE MORE REASON to get that friggin' doggy door project DONE!! Argh. Don't even get me started.

I thought I could probably handle the cleanup on my own if it had just been the den, but with Logan's room also a mess, I needed some help before I had a major meltdown.

I called Jon and told him to come home ASAP. I knew this was a big "ask" since he actually had some late night work to do in the data center and coming home now meant he'd have to be back up to the city bright and early tomorrow morning to finish the work. But he could hear the urgency in my voice and dropped everything immediately. He was still an hour away, but I knew I wouldn't be done by then anyway.

I spent the next hour checking in on Logan and singing to him from the other room - me on the floor, hands and knees, scrubbing away, while he blissfully unaware and totally having the time of his life in his tub.

That is, until suddenly he started yelling for me: "Mama! Mama! Out! Out!"

That's strange. My son never volunteers to be taken out of the bathtub. What gives?

I come in and he's standing in the tub, reaching out to me to be picked up, and pointing back down to the tub.

The little shit had taken a shit!

Nice. Just what I needed. MORE SHIT.

I tell you, it was at this point that my eyes were threatening to well up with tears.

I drained the tub, cleaned the poop up, hosed him and his toys down, and refilled the bathtub so he could continue playing. I was hoping he'd stay in long enough until Jon got home to help and watch him while I continued to clean up Odin's mess(es).

Luckily - it worked. I had the den cleaned up and was still working on the rug in Logan's room when Jon finally pulled up an hour later. Jon scrubbed Logan down and dressed him while I tried vacuuming the rug with our shop vac. It didn't work so well - so I decided we needed to rent a steam cleaner. And, I needed to get out of the house before I went ballistic and strangled our pets. None of us had eaten dinner yet either - and it was hitting Logan's bed time (approx. 8pm)

So, off to Fresh Choice (for some healthy greens spoiled with ranch dressing. mwahahaha) for a quick bite to eat and then Longs Drugs to rent a steam cleaner!

We were home by about 9:30pm and Logan was exhausted. Frankly, we all were (and my back! KILLING me softly.)

We couldn't put Logan to sleep in his room. The house had aired out pretty well, but we wanted to spray the carpet with some stain treatment we bought at the store before using the steam cleaner tomorrow - and we weren't really crazy about leaving our kid in the room overnight inhaling all those fun cleaning fumes. So, he's now conked out in his travel tent in our bedroom, and we'll just spend another night on our futon out in the living room (because, didn't I tell you? one of the cats or Lola, we're not sure, had an accident on our bed over the weekend and I've been airing out the mattress to dry after treating it as well!).

I'm pretty sure we won't be getting any new pets for a loooooong time.

Rocks are a Boy's Best Friend

You never really want to wish a traumatic experience onto anyone, let alone your own child. Yet, this evening, as I was driving to an urgent after hours on-call doctor appointment, I have to admit, the thought definitely crossed my mind.

Just as I was packing up at work, I got a call from his school today. Logan stuck another rock up his nose. And, this time it was too far up for the teachers to reach and get out on their own. They were a little panicky and not sure what to do.

I called Dr. Safir - whose office was closed for the night, but gave a number for the on-call doctor. I called them and they told me it actually wasn't a terribly urgent issue and if I wanted to just wait until the morning and take Logan in to see Dr. Safir tomorrow instead, that would be totally fine.

Uhhh, I think I'd like you to take the rock out tonight, thank you very much.

I whisked him away from school (where he was happily sitting at the table eating his late afternoon snack, seemingly 100% unaffected by the fact that there was a rock lodged up his nose) and drove like mad to make the 6:15pm appointment clear across town.

And there I was, preparing myself for a traumatic event, where we'd need 5 adults to hold down my screaming writhing son as the doctor reached up his nose with long needle-nose pliers to painfully pull the rock out, all the while Logan imploring me with his tear-filled eyes to stop. But then I thought, well shit. Maybe this will finally teach him a lesson. Maybe he would finally learn that ROCKS DO NOT GO IN NOSES.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), the rescue mission went nothing like I had imagined. Instead, Logan laid quietly still on the table while I pinned down his arms against his ears/head and the nurse held down his torso/legs, pointing a flashlight up his nose. The doctor took out a medium sized pair of tweezers (with long skinny tips) and within 5 seconds, the big honkin' rock was out of his nose.

Not a scream. Not a tussle. Not a tear nor a drop of blood. Not even a whimper.

Damn.

Instead, my kid just smiled REAL big, wondering what all the commotion was about.

And I'm pretty sure the lesson he learned tonight wasn't "Do not stick another rock up my nose", but rather, "If I stick rocks up my nose, I am going to get a lot of attention and an easy 5 second rescue mission right afterward. Score!"

Offending Piece of Evidence

A little smaller than a dime and still slimy and wet from Logan boogers :)

Like Mother, Like Son

Some of you may have read my mom's comment to a recent post of mine - where she described how similar Logan's actions have been to my own.

Today, Logan did one better than that Mom. He decided to do exactly what I did when I was small.

Today, he decided to stick a couple of rocks up his nose.

Yes, just like his mom.

Only, I was at least twice his age when I did it. And, I stuck up half as many as he did. So there.

His school called me this afternoon to let me know that he had stuck a couple of rocks up his nose while on the playground. They were able to get the first one out without any difficulty, but the second one was stubborn. And, my son was stubborn. Fighting the teachers the whole way (he HATES when anyone touches or picks at his nose), giggling like crazy and trying to stick the rock back up farther as they tried hard to pull it out.

*sigh*

They finally did get it out after much fanfare and for another half hour or so, his nose bled on and off (that's when his teachers finally called me).

I'm sure they wondered why I wasn't more upset or alarmed than I was. But c'mon. He was okay and it was pretty fucking funny. All I could do was laugh.

Sooooooo like his mother.


For those that are worried: I did call his doc and they weren't concerned - they said the bleeding was probably due to irritation from the rock and to just swab the inside of his nose with Neosporin, which I did, and put a cold compress on his forehead if he continued to bleed. When I left him with my dad this evening - so that I could head up to the city for another night out with Jon - he was doing just fine and the bleeding had all but stopped. :)

Humpty Dumpty

Last Friday evening, Logan and I were lounging around in the new living area, which we all just L-O-V-E. I set Logan down in between some pillows on our (new) couch, and crossed the room, about 5 ft away, to put something away. I was watching/talking to him the entire time, and in the split second that I was out of arm's reach, he did a triple axel and PLOP. Rolled off the couch and landed on the rug. Of course, he was startled and cried -- took me a few minutes to calm him down -- he was pretty shaken up yet TOTALLY fine. Part of me thought, Jeez. What a drama queen. The other part of me said, poor little guy and, WHAT was I thinking?!?! Stupid mommy! (I really should have known better than that....)

This is actually not the first time he's fallen. And, it's amazing how much my demeanor about the fall this past Friday has changed, vs. the first time he fell. I was so traumatized - and embarrassed - by the event the first time he fell, that I didn't blog about it back then. The only thing I've left out of my "online journal" actually. Yet, I still remember it vividly like it was yesterday. But, I can at least talk about it now (I couldn't breathe a word about it when it happened).... so I'll tell you all my little secret.

Logan had just turned one month old. He was still such a wee little thing. Super precious of course. Still in his brace at the time, and fussy as all hell, keeping us up at odd hours throughout the night (ahhh, the good ol' days). He fell asleep so easily laying on my chest that I would usually nurse him in bed, then pat and rock him on my chest until he fell asleep. Once asleep, I'd lay him either in the bassinet near our bed, or in between Jon and I and go to sleep myself. Well, on this particular night, I must have dozed off while still patting him to sleep -- because the next thing I knew, I woke up to the most terrible THUD you could ever hear as a brand new mama. In lightening speed, I was out of bed and picking Logan off the floor -- it was horrifying for me to see his little body so helpless and still, lying face down on the floor. It took him a few seconds to realize what happened, fast asleep himself, but once he figured it out, he let out the most awful ear piercing wail a mother could bear.

When I had jumped out of bed, I screamed something along the lines of oh shit -- which woke Jon up too of course.... and he started yelling "oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god". It didn't really help the situation but I suppose in times like this, you quickly learn who's better at handling emergency situations (me). ;-) Jon ran to the kitchen, cabinet doors banging, while I was rocking and comforting our little guy to let him know he was ok. I had no clue what Jon was doing, but later found out he was looking for a bag to put some ice in, for Logan's head. :)

Once Logan stopped crying (which I remember thinking was surprisingly fast), he just wanted to nurse and go back to sleep. He seemed to be fine, but we were a little nervous and wanted to make sure he didn't have a concussion or anything serious from the fall (our bed is pretty tall and of course, he fell onto the hardwood floor). So, as I was nursing him, I logged online to start researching what you should do when your baby falls (as it turns out, this happens ALL THE TIME to LOTS of moms!!) -- while Jon got on the phone to call the on-call nurse.

I was pretty upset on the inside, but outwardly calm with Logan in my arms. Strange how that is - mother instinct perhaps? I walked through a series of questions with the nurse - the biggest being, was he able to nurse/suck (why yes, he's nursing right now) and could he put his head down touching his chin to his chest (yep, he was able to do that too). I didn't know it at the time but that's a sign that tells you if he's hurt his neck or not (his neck will be stiff and unable to bend down if he's hurt). The nurse said he should be ok from the fall, not to worry, and if he continued to behave normally after the next 24 hrs, we shouldn't worry about it.

It was strange how different Jon and I behaved after that. I was ultra calm during "the incident". Jon freaked out, but once he could see Logan was fine and the nurse said not to worry, he turned on his heels and trotted back to bed. So what did I do?? I *then* had my meltdown. ;-) I lost it -- screaming at Jon to come back here, how could you leave like that?, we need to watch him every second to make sure he's ok, this was a huge thing that just happened to us, how could you just go back to bed?, etc. etc.

*sigh*

He calmed me down - repeated what the nurse had said, that Logan would be just fine. And, told me this is just the first of many falls and heartaches that we are going to have to endure with this little guy. He was right -- we both went to bed, with little Logan safe between us in my arms.

The next day - we decided it was time to buy a co-sleeper, so that if he DID roll off the bed again, he'd roll into the co-sleeper, and/or I could put him in that rather than the bassinet (which I didn't like using too much because I had to get out of bed to put him in it and/or sit up in bed to check on him in the middle of the night). At first I was resistant to buying YET ANOTHER baby item for our house, but in the end, it was one of the best purchases we could have made. I absolutely loved the co-sleeper -- I could check on him throughout the night while still lying in bed myself, he was within arm's reach for me to pat his back when he got a little fussy, I could easily pick him up to nurse him throughout the night and/or lay him back down once he had fallen back to sleep. Once he started sleeping in his crib in his own room (about 3 months old), I actually had the hardest time of everyone, adjusting to the change. I suppose I had just gotten really used to sleeping in between my two favorite guys.

It took me many days, perhaps even a week? I'm not sure, to recover from Logan's accident. I felt I had failed him as a mother -- he was completely helpless and 100% dependent on me, and there I had gone and fallen asleep while he was still on my chest, and let him fall from the bed. I was ridden with guilt. He wasn't big enough to catch himself in the fall, nor understand what had happened, and that just killed me inside. It was really hard for me to accept that I had dropped him, no matter how exhausted I was or unintentional the accident may have been. I still blamed myself for being so careless!

However, I feel I am finally past it and am able to talk about what happened and share the story with other Mommys (hey look, I'm even blogging about it!). I've come to realize I'm not the only Mom who has slipped up once or twice thank goodness and, we can't be perfect, no matter how hard we try. These kids of ours are pretty tough and resilient -- I suppose it's nature's way of accommodating for the inevitable accident here and there. Of course, now that "the incident" is long behind us, Jon teases me from time to time about how I "THREW him off the bed". Nice. But, we smile and laugh and make light of the situation as best we can. We are, after all, still learning this whole parenting thing.

So, now you know my dirty little secret. I may have ruined Logan's chances at becoming a rocket scientist, but he could easily still be president.

And, I am okay with that.