Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Hey Karma, I think we're even now!

First, some background. About 20 years ago, my parents went to Germany for a week, leaving me, the Oldest Daughter, in charge of my younger siblings and the various critters who dwelled with us on the farm. It was the first time my parents had gone overseas without getting some sort of More Responsible, Older Person to stay with us. I had my driver's license, I'd already worked as a nanny for other people - yes, other people had paid me to take care of their kids! - so I was deemed mature and responsible enough that they decided to leave me in charge.

Not two hours after we stood waving in the driveway as my parents drove off to the airport, I had my first crisis as Commander in Chief. My then 11 year old sister came downstairs in nothing but a towel, dripping wet, and very calmly said "Um, Heath? I think we need to go to the Emergency Room." I took in the sight and at first decided she was pulling my leg, as she didn't appear to be injured and she was, as I said, very calm. She then showed me the hand she had wrapped in a second towel, more specifically the finger that was spouting blood on that hand. Turns out she'd tripped getting out of the (stall) shower and had sliced her finger open but good - from nailbed almost all the way down its length - on the metal lip at the bottom of the shower door. This would definitely require more than a Band Aid or four.

So, we headed off to the ER. Her hand required multiple stitches and a bit of extraneous jabbing with a syringe for irrigation/cleaning and then numbing to boot. My sister remained very calm throughout this adventure - she actually handled the needles jabbing into her finger (and I swear I could see bone at one point, though that might've been my admittedly overactive imagination) better than I did. I had to look away even as I tried to be brave on her behalf, holding her non-injured hand as she lay on the gurney being treated. One huge bandage later, we were on our way home, with me plotting how best to break this news to my parents when we heard from them. (Just because this was entirely an accident and I wasn't even on the same floor as my sister when it occurred was no reason for my parents not to somehow blame me for this happening on my watch. You know how parents can be utterly irrational at times...) I was dreading their call the next day, but it went quite well. They were concerned, of course, about my sister but reassured that everything was taken care of and all would be well. I was thanking my lucky stars from start to finish - from the no tears (on my sister's part, anyhow) at the ER to the no overseas histrionics from my parents. Whew. I was pretty sure I'd dodged a bullet, and I was thrilled.

I told you about all that so that now I can tell you this... Yesterday, that bullet finally boomeranged its way around and hurtled through time to strike me firmly in the butt. This was not how I'd planned my day, with karmic retribution from two decades ago, but there you have it.

You see, I had a lovely day planned for the kiddo and myself yesterday. First, she had her summer program - aka "farm school" - followed by an OT session (and by the by, I adore her occupational therapist. Adore. She also was
Kiddo's therapist last summer and she is utterly fantabulous) after which I collected her with "car picnic" at the ready and bottles of water chilling in the cooler. The plan was to head downtown and meet up with the kiddo's best friends for a playdate at a playground we hadn't been to before. (Didja hear that distant warning bell? Yeah, not me...) We chose this playground for its proximity to our friends' previous engagement that day as well as for its sorta-kinda-midway point location between their home and ours. Considering I spent over $70 for gas yesterday - first time I've topped $70 and my tank was almost empty at the time... - I was fine with checking out a new place to play that didn't mean one or the other of us hauling our minivans across the county.

So, we arrived at the playground at the appointed hour. It wasn't as large as I remembered from driving by it in the past, and it was wooden. (Yep, that was a much louder warning bell. Big Ben, even. I did hear that one, but I opted to ignore it.) Well, the base of it was wood, but the slides and ladders and whatnot were the standard plastic or plastic-coated metal, so I figured it should be okay.

I am not kidding you when I say it wasn't even a full minute after
Kiddo climbed up onto the first tier of the playground that she was back at my side, holding out her right hand. She had, naturally, wiped out while jumping from one level to another. This is par for the course, and true to form, she was barely crying. It's partially due to her SPD, but also she's a tough cookie, not prone to easy tears when injured. She did, however, want a bandage for her hand (she's a Band Aid junkie), which looked to be dirty and also scraped at a first glance. We trotted over to the car, where I keep a first aid kit, and I proceeded to try to clean off and Bactine the wound before slapping the bandage over it. Upon the slightly closer inspection that Kiddo allowed, I saw what appeared to be splinters in her palm. Crap. Well, I wasn't about to drive straight home just for what would invariably be an agonizing splinter removal process (and oh, I didn't know the half of it yet), so I Bactined the heck out of her palm and then covered the whole area up with a bandage and we rejoined our friends.

Now, at this point, Kiddo had more sense than I did. She refused to go back onto the "old, bad playground" and as it was midday and ridiculously hot and un-shady, we grown-ups concurred. We bagged the playground plan, went to a nearby Wendy's for itty-bitty Frosties instead and then headed for our respective homes. When we arrived at home, I decided the time was right to deal with the palm situation. I told
Kiddo that once we took care of her boo-boo, we'd throw on our swimsuits and head up to the pool at the camp. Ha.

Once in the nice, strong light of the bathroom, as the kiddo moaned and groaned her way through a more thorough washing of her rather grimy hands, I realized that what I'd initially thought were two splinters and a lot of dirt were many splinters. Many large, deeply embedded splinters. Like more than half a dozen. And the scrape that I had Bactined so optimistically back at the playground? It was not just a cut, but a ravine full of splinters. Oh crap. It also looked red and swollen and
Kiddo was complaining that "this boo-boo really HURTS, Mommy." Not good at all. I could see the ends of two of the splinters above the surface, so I quickly grabbed the tweezers.

And this is the point at which Kiddo freaked the heck out. Now, I am a drama queen. It's true. I can pitch a hissy fit with the best of them. I can out-drama Meryl Streep in her Sophie's Choiciest moment when I feel the need. So I suppose it is only fitting that my kid would be capable of making my Streeping look positively Jessica-Simpson-in-The-Dukes-of-Hazzardian. (I've only seen brief snippets of TDoH movie on HBO in passing, but whew, she sure seemed to stink.) It certainly didn't help that
Kiddo had a Splintery Badness experience just three short weeks ago, when it took Hubby, my mom and me teamed up over an hour and a half to remove three splinters from her foot. In the next twenty minutes, I managed to extract exactly one of the protruding splinters. This, as Kiddo screamed and squalled and worked herself up to the point of near-barfing. After the first splinter came out and Kiddo clutched her palm into a fist so tight that she could've turned coal into diamonds, I realized there was NO way I was going to get the rest of them out. Not on my own, anyhow, and Hubby had a softball double-header on his agenda that would mean he would not be home until quite late. As Kiddo alternately clutched at my legs and ran screaming from the room, all at top decibel levels (thank goodness the windows were closed due to the AC being on), I did the only thing I could think of: I called the pediatrician's office. An hour later, we were on our way. Kiddo had brought herself marginally under control by then, though the tear streaked face ("Don't wipe off my teeeeeeears, Mommy! I'm not done with them yeeeeeeet!!") under ominously furrowed brow, choppy breathing and still tightly clutched fist warned that this calm was just an illusion.

Our pediatrician wasn't available, but I'd told the receptionist (over the kiddo's wails) that we'd see anyone. Anyone who could get these splinters out would be fine, thanks. I didn't care if it was one of the billing ladies, frankly, I just wanted someone professional, someone affiliated with a medical office, to take care of this bad, bad situation. So, we saw the head doc of the group. He's been a doctor longer than I've been alive, and I dare say that he's seen his share of child hysterics. He examined her palm as she sat up on the table, then left and came back with his Implements of Torture and Destruction. He angled a bright light over her hand, strapped on these gigantic, magnifying glasses and got ready to get busy on the splinter removal.

I had been hoping that they'd have some sort of numbing agent they could use, but alas, it wasn't the case. I didn't even have a chance to ask him about this possibility, because the exact second he picked up the first pair of tweezers (and they were twice the size of mine with a sharply angled end, so they were far more eeeevil looking than Mommy's tweezers at home) she went nuts. The screaming was louder than a jet engine at close range. Mainly howling, it also had the occasional "NOOOO!" or "YOU'RE SO MEAN!" or "LEAVE ME ALONE! BAD DOCTOR! I WANT TO KEEEEEEEP MY SPLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINTERS!!" thrown in for added effect.

You know how when you're at the doctor's office and you hear some kid crying in one of the exam rooms, while you may sympathize with that kid's parent, you are also relieved and glad that it isn't YOUR kid making that noise? Yeah, that was my kid yesterday. It wasn't just the volume of her screams, either. It was the length that they went on, unceasingly, whether the doctor was actually touching her hand or not. He quickly decided that she shouldn't remain on the table, but rather sit in my lap, so with Mommy the Human Straitjacket attempting to hold her three uninjured limbs still and keep her from blowing ferocious raspberries on the doctor, he held her other hand in a death grip as he did his thing.

It was somewhere during this period of pure hell that I wondered why they don't have at least one soundproof room at the pediatrician's office, or at the very least some acoustical tiles to deaden sound. Within the next hour, the doc removed almost all of the evil, long, deeply embedded splinters. He gave up shortly after the second time she caught him in The Place Men Never, Ever Want to Be Kicked, Ever with a flailing foot. (She wasn't aiming, just thrashing about. Not that his groin area appreciated the difference.) He told me that the remaining splinters were superficial enough that they should work themselves out without incident, and that it wasn't worth, and I quote, "torturing us all any further" to try to remove them too. After a hefty application of polysporin and a character Band Aid slapped over her palm, he assured me that today's wooden playgrounds aren't made "of the bad stuff" anymore, so he was fairly sure that her hand wouldn't get infected, but to keep it clean and covered in polysporin and bandages 'til it healed. Then he fled the room, likely to hide under his desk and dictate a retirement letter, possibly while availing himself of an ice pack or two.

As soon as the door closed, the hysteria ceased.
Kiddo is that good - as quickly as she can turn it on and ramp it up to DefCon 1, she can shut it back off. As we headed down the hall to the exit, all the other people left in the office fell silent. The nurses were standing about in groups, clearly talking about the Screams Like They'd Never Heard Before. A few of them, barely able to contain their amusement, asked Kiddo how she was. "I had splinters in my hand from the bad, old playground, but Doctor X took them out and I was SO VERY BRAVE" she replied, without batting an eyelash. That did it - the nurses were doubled over in paroxysms of laughter as we rounded the corner for the check-out desk. I have never paid a copay more quickly - I practically flung my Visa at the clerk, and I couldn't bear to make eye contact with any of the other people in the waiting area. Kiddo was cheerfully picking out her sticker of choice from the basket and telling the billing ladies about Ectobert, her lion (who had accompanied us for this excursion), without a single smidgen of embarrassment about her previous behavior. That's the thing about my little drama queen - she gets over it pretty quickly without holding a grudge. Well, except against the playground, anyhow - as soon as we got home, she insisted on calling her friends with whom we'd made the unfortunate playdate and informing them that we must NEVER go back to that playground again.

(Oh, and the character bandage the doctor applied to her hand? It was a Looney Tunes bandage covered with the Tasmanian Devil. Now, you might think
Kiddo is deprived, but we've never let her watch Looney Tunes. Even though I myself would watch Bugs and crew every Saturday morning as a child - mostly because that was the channel that also would play Schoolhouse Rock rather than because we were diehard Bugs or Daffy or Wily E. fans - as an adult, I don't feel it is appropriate viewing for the kiddo yet. Too violent and un-socially redeeming. Call me puritanical if you must........ Anyhow, she looked at the bandage and inquired "Who is that mean guy?" So, I explained he is Taz, the Tasmanian Devil and that he is silly, not mean. She said "Why is he shouting with his mouth open and all his teeth out?" Because, you know, he was being all Taz-y on the bandage. I explained that he doesn't talk as much as yell "AAAAAAAH!" and spin around in circles, really fast. (You try doing a decent Taz impression after holding onto the Most Squalling Kiddo Ever through a procedure for which she was behaving as if instead of wielding tweezers on her palm, the doctor were winding her intestines onto a rack ala the finale of Braveheart...) Well, that wasn't good enough for the kiddo, and as soon as we got into the car, she requested that the bandage be replaced, as obviously Taz "isn't kind" - she was shocked that the doctor would have bandages featuring such a mean guy, but too polite to reject it on the spot. And seriously, how many kids her age really are that well acquainted with the Looney Tunes crew? Are they even on TV any more? Would it kill the pediatrician's office to stock more commonly recognized character bandages, like Curious George, Dora, Diego, Backyardigans....?)

So, we got home, the reverberations of her yells still pounding in my brain. I'm really, really hoping that the remaining splinters (there's actually one larger one and a few, scattered much smaller ones, I just noticed upon bandage-replacing inspection) do work their way out and not get infected. Because if we have to go back to the doctor for further splinter removal, I'm going to be requesting drugs. I don't care which one of us they knock out, but there's no way I'm going through that again without either
Kiddo or me being unconscious.

I am swearing, right here, right now, a solemn vow never, ever to let the kiddo near a wooden playset again. Ever. In the meantime, karma caught up with me with interest, as clearly all the caterwauling from yesterday was psychic payback for getting off the hook so easily all those years ago when my sister sliced open her finger. So, at least I'm back to even now, right?

74 comments:

My name is Andy. said...

I'm sorry, but I have tears of laughter running down my cheeks and my co-workers keep asking if I'm okay!!

LOL

I'm sorry that kiddo got hurt, and I'm glad she's okay, but that story is priceless the way you tell it!!!


{{{HUGS}}} my friend, maybe it's time to rethink your tea-totelling ways and have a good stiff drink!

szarek4 said...

You poor thing (((hugs)))

You do have a gift for story telling though :-)

I'm glad your sweet girl made it through and I also hope the rest of the remaining splinters don't get infected.

Lylah M. Alphonse said...

"I don't care which one of us they knock out, but there's no way I'm going through that again without either the kiddo or me being unconscious..."

I have so been there. Scarred for life, I tell you. Me, not my kid. My kid healed up just fine...

Momof3 said...

OUCH!

cocokrispybeans said...

OK, I was laughing anyway, but when you got to the part where Kiddo went out to the desk, calmly picking out a sticker and proclaiming her bravery?

I lost it. I had to admit to my boss what I was reading and share it with her.

She almost choked on her chocolate from laughing so hard.

Karma is a harsh taskmistress, eh?

Apple Joos said...

Ya know! I did get the crayon out. I loaded up all of the clothes into the washer and put a crap-ton of oxyclean in it, ran it on hot (since our clothes needed to all be two sizes too small anyway) and let it soak for a few hours. After a bit, I just dropped the lid and let it go through the cycle. Good as new!ish.

Apple Joos said...

After that, MY kids are never going on a wooden playground again! The mental images I just got from that post are terrifying! TERRIFYING! I'm going to have some trouble sleeping tonight, I'm sure.

There's no such thing as screaming children. There's no such thing as screaming children. There's no such thing...

trashalou said...

Ouch!

You have my sympathy. I once received a (slightly hysterical)phone call from a friend asking me to comehelp as her daughter had just jumped on a potted cactus and it would need several many hands to hold child and extract ALL the spines!

Givinya De Elba said...

Oh dear Heather! You write well. I particularly liked, "Don't wipe away my tears, I'm not done with them yet."

Belle (from Life of a...) said...

Happy SITS Day!!

Laurel said...

ummmm. oh my. So sorry - glad it all worked out (sort of?). And Happy Sits Day to you!

April said...

Holy Geez! I think it's safe to say you've got some serious karma in the bank! Now, let's just hope it's not with WaMu or Wachovia ;-)

angie said...

I'm doubled over in paroxysms of laughter now. So sad, but so funny too. Congrats on your SITS day!

christyhulsey said...

funny!

Kimmie0270 said...

You have an amazing gift for storytelling! Happy SITS day!

Le @ Third on the Right said...

Ouch ouch and double ouch !! Our first born is soooo tweezer phobic we ave to extract splinters - even baby ones - by tourch lite at night when he sleeps .... no fun !

So glad kiddo won the day after all - my best le

~Trish~ said...

Oh...my...gosh, I am crying with laughter!!

Dee said...

Wow, thats all I can say. What an experience. Hope my drama queens don't take lessons from your girl!

Happy sits day

Creative Junkie said...

Ugh! I'm so sorry you guys had to go through that! :(

We've done our fair share of broken bones over here, but by far, the worst ER trip was the one where my youngest almost sliced her ear off. Don't ask.

Debbie Y. said...

Don't count on it, Karma is an evil task mistress and will strike when you least expect it.

Your child sounds absolutely adoreable, mine is almost 23 and she still out Streeps me and everyone else I know. I am glad to hear that there are other drama queens out there.

Happy SITS day!

Lorie said...

Ouch Ouch OUCH! I hate splinters! Reading this was painful!

Melodie said...

Great story! I hope everything turned out well with those leftover splinters of Kiddo's.

Kelly Deneen said...

Oh no!! Your poor girl and poor you! That sounds just terrible, but I was totally cracking up at her comments to the nurse. lol.

Brenda Jean said...

You won't believe this, but I have lucked out with all three kids and my husband has been the "Doctor guy". He took them for shots, injuries and then when the kids were about 4 or 5 he decided to become an RN. I do not handle anything bigger than ONE splinter. BAHAHAHAHA Now, he actually puts IV's in babies and patches up toddlers. I here he is really good, but I of course would never watch him do this. LOL I think in your case YOU were the brave one:)

Maren said...

I laughed and laughed! Good for you for finding the humor in that situation. I've been to the er with a disabled child, and know how bad it can be if you don't have your sense of humor on hand! Thanks!

elizabeth said...

What an ordeal!!
I'm glad you recovered enough to write about it! What a good story.. perhaps even better for later on when the kiddo's a teenager. I'm glad she recovered too.

T said...

it's nice to know that some people like their OTs... Hubby is one, but since he works mostly with older crankier people there isn't too much love going around :)

Sorry about my cracking up at your story - you are DEFINITELY even with Karma now... don't you get some sort of release signed now?

Karen said...

Oh dear. I am laughing, but in a sympathetic way !!

two of my sons were the Drama Kings in the family. One used to scream his head off as soon as he saw tweezers. The other one would pass out as soon as he saw blood. That son is about to start training as a Dr, so hopefully the sight of blood no longer does that to him !!!

Karol said...

Holy cow. That is about the funniest thing I've heard in awhile! Not for you of course. Oh, my.

*happy SITS day!

Eudae-mamia said...

Oh my - I'm dying! Sorry, but that's just plain funny.

And you are so going on my Blog Roll - Entertainment Weekly as a link? You rock!

Em

P.S. next time, for fun splinter removal, my ped gave me this suggestion - put some Elmer's glue on the spot. Kids think it's fun. Not all that sanitary I guess, but once it dries, you peel it off and up comes the splinter. Packaging tape does the same thing, but not as fun. Works like a charm on my sons' knees.

G. said...

What a story! I was cringing at the part where your sister cut her finger...something similar happened to me when I was younger-ouch!

Aubrey said...

Karma is a bitch! But does make like exciting like that,no??? LOL

Rachel Ann said...

oh my!! I'm so sorry for the pain and suffering that your kiddo went through...but that story is priceless!

You have a knack for storytelling and making people see the humor in the everyday...keep it up!

I'm going to wipe the tears of laughter off my face now...

Brooke said...

Wow! Sounds very traumatic but it was also VERY entertaining to read. I had a perfect picture in my head of the whole ordeal :)

Amy said...

Happy SITS day! :D

Ronnica said...

Heather! I'm so glad that you're being featured!

Man, was this a long post, but so worth the read! I just love your writing style and laughed throughouut!

Simply Stork said...

wonderful story...you do have a gift :o)

~simply~

Rhea said...

Loony Tunes are still on TV, my kids know who they are.

But, I agree, Dora and Scooby and Backyardigans and such are much more popular.

I hate it when I have to hold my children down at the doctor's office. Talk about STRESSFUL.

Your daughter's dramatics were hilarious. I'm sure you didn't think so at the time, but wow, impressive.

CanCan said...

Oh man. I'm exhausted from reliving this vicariously.

Ren said...

Oh my goodness, what a story!

Happy SITS day! ^^

Stephanie said...

Oh my, what an experience! My younger sister cut open her finger once years ago (we were in high school) and was just as calm as can be. Why can't little kiddos be that calm too? :-)

AJ said...

Wow what a day! I would say that Karma got you good! That would be my DD she freaks over everything!

Felicia Eis said...

OH MY GOSH!!! You daughter sounds like mine (though mine is only three months old) when we went to go and get her newborn screening. My midwife had a little apprentice with her that day and she was telling her about being careful when you poke the baby and how most babies make a little cry or a face. Well not my daughter :P She absolutely flipped out!!! My midwife finally lost it after trying to get blood on the paper and had her assistant and my husband and I hold her down to get it.

Oh dear I hope she is not like this for the rest of her life *running to find a corner to hide in*

Ali said...

Happy SITS day - that's a really funny story, but I SO feel your pain sister!

cricketphx said...

Im laughing so hard...I'm crying!

Jacie said...

poor kiddo and poor mom too.
glad it wasn't too serious though.

Swirl Girl said...

WOW!
What a story!
Love the details.
Now take a breath..two, three ,four....and enjoy your SITS day!

EmmaP said...

I have tears from crying. I hate having to hold my child down at the dr's office while they are crying. I feel so helpless, that I start to well up. But I also have tears from laughing sooooo hard. Thanks for the soul-cleansing today. I really needed it. And I am going to remember, "Please don't wipe my tears - I am not done with them yet!"

Nessa said...

You poor thing! Nothing like those kinds of trips to the doc!

I completely fell into fits of laughter about the same time the nurses did! Great post!

Happy SITS day!

Leiann said...

Absolutely hilarious. I'm not looking forward to my day like that. Hopefully I'll pass it by, but with a 2 year old that is clumsy I doubt I will. A girl can wish though!

Jenni said...

Your daughter is hilarious. I love the way her mind works. And since I was not in your position I'm finding it all rather humorous!

Shannon said...

When we took my older son to get kindergarten shots, he miraculously turned into some sort of demon spawn with superhuman strength. I remember thinking, "Good Lord, just kill me now". Six years later, it's funny...but then? Death.

Happy SITS day!

ElleBee said...

Oh.My.Word. I was laughing so hard and trying to keep it in that I was literally squeaking!

Happy SITS Day!

wendy said...

Very well written...and VERY funny!

Happy SITS day!

Melissa Lester said...

Well, it sounded like you were cool, calm and collected twenty years ago and today!

Tracy P. said...

Oh, yikes! I have total chills running up my spine from that description.

But I LOVE that she wanted to keep her tears because she wasn't done with them!

Me said...

Happy SITS Day!

Karma can be such a bugger! But I agree..you have paid your dues!

jennifer said...

Oh My Word. Bless both of your hearts. Please send Karma a polite little note and ask it to leave me alone. I don't want to have to blog a story like yours!!

April Kennedy said...

OMGosh...tooo funny and scary and a little gross too. My kindergartener has a field trip in 2 weeks to an all wooden playground. Yikes!

Becky :) said...

I think I was okay until you got to the part of the splinters and taking them out and the process and then that made me squirm in my seat.

That's a heck of a way for Karma to get you back!!!!

Congrats on your SITS day!!!

Trish said...

I'm quite sure that you are free of Karma's clutches now. Poor little tyke!

Mamasphere said...

I can't believe they didn't numb her hand!! It would've saved the doctor from all of those unfortunately placed kicks, lol. Glad it ended up okay!

dddiva said...

LOL it is so not funny when it is happening to you but hysterical for the rest of us.
Glad the little Drama Queen lived to tell the tale.

mrsmouthy said...

Holy smokes that's crazy! What's also crazy is that I have a piece of scrapbook paper that is just like your blog background--I love it!

Melissa said...

I'm thinking drugs for you might be the way to go!! LOL!

You really are super mom! I would have lost my mind much sooner. Love that your little one racked the doctor not once but twice...hysterical!

Michelle said...

Oh you poor POOR dear. That has got to be rough, although that sounds SO much like Little Miss in every word you describe -- jumping from levels, falling, getting injured but no pain, drama queen, turning it on and off, no embarrassment over previous behavior. Are you sure you didn't steal my little girl for your outing?

Teryn said...

What a great story!! It's true though... tweezers are pretty scary torture instuments from a child's point of view. I love that she wanted to "keep the splinters". Isn't it great how children can bounce back like that? Seeming to be totally recovered in just a matter of moments.

P.S. I totally agree about the looney toons. No real value to them- though my husband would have to disagree. I'm afraid we'll have to discuss thier pros and cons further when our son get's old enough to watch.

Just say Julie said...

I know the feeling you had at the time, but this is going to be hilarious to her one day. And if you think splinter removal is bad, try a cast removal. That's what I went through with my son this summer. That saw doesn't help matters.

mrsbear said...

Holy cow, I got stressed out just reading about that incident. I had a piece of a cactus needle imbedded under my nail and it did actually work itself out over the course of about three weeks. Hope your little drama queen is feeling better. Happy (belated) SITS day.

April said...

This post TOTALLY deserves an award.

So here ya go:

http://aprilslittlefamily.blogspot.com/2008/10/mommy-rant-award.html

You're a fantastic writer!!!

Pinktulip said...

Heather, we have all been in this situation before, some more than once, but I would NEVER be able to tell the story as well as you did!

Deanna said...

That was classic! I'm so glad you told your story! I'll be reading more of your blog!

J'Ollie Primitives said...

Streeping. Oh my.

That made me laugh harder than the splinter removal....poor baby, hope she's all better now. Hope the doc is too.

funny!

Debbie said...

I am so glad you linked to this post. It is wonderful. What a day you had. That's one of those you fall into bed at the end of and it never felt so good. Thanks for linking and joining in.