I love the sound of bickering children when I get up way past the time they do… Continue reading
First day of school ended with a bang. Literally.
A couple of years ago Ben slipped and fell backwards on some steps in a pool observation area while Sonja was doing a swim lesson and he cut his head open. He needed staples in his head. I remember thinking in the hospital waiting room that she will be next, at some point.
Sonja is 4 and a maniac. Her brother is a maniac. Last night after driving both of us mental with their pent-up energy (the entire day was wet and wetter), they managed somehow to have an accident outside and she came in with blood dripping from her head. With her blond, thin hair it was easier to see where the cut was than with Ben’s thick, dark hair, but I still couldn’t figure out where it was oozing from because there was quite a bit of blood. And she had it streaked down half her face. Had to stick her in the shower to find the cut.
Since yesterday afternoon I have been practicing being a left handed person. After a lifetime of right handedness, I find it rather difficult to switch.
Actually, I’m practicing being a one-handed person. That seems more accurate since I have been instructed by DH not to use that hand and let it heal or get to the hospital to get stitches.(I’m not going.)
I accidentally managed to almost slice off my right hand the other day. (The cut is much deeper and more jagged than the picture shows, and bled profusely for a long time.) There was a situation with a screen door and a lever that stuck and broken glass. And although it’s only affected the side of the hand (below the pinky finger) and I can move my fingers perfectly speedily across this keyboard, I really should not be doing anything strenuous with my right hand.
Lifting a hair brush seems to be about as much activity as my wound can handle without opening back up and causing me to bleed profusely. Earlier I tried to open a pickle jar with my left hand…didn’t work. So I used the fingers on my right hand to hold the jar, and used my arm to try and twist open the cap…I felt a little pull on the top part of the very long and jagged cut on my hand, but I saw no blood, so that was the last time I’m opening a jar.
I do not need an infection, which could happen if I keep doing stuff to open the wound.
Sitting idle is remarkably hard. I had planned on finishing painting my kitchen which I started last week and specifically for this event placed the kidlets into an afternoon sports camp…now I have to sit here and drink tea and eat chocolate instead.
This is not particularly fun.