Ca-ute.
Mar 08
A Bang-Up Breakfast, Part One
Emrick got hurt a little more than usual yesterday. He usually bumps his head, or hits his leg on something at least once a day, but yesterday I think he was going for some kind of record, and as a result, yesterday’s mishaps were still evident on his face this morning. First, you’ll notice the red bump on his lower lip.
I think this is his first lip wound, and it was the last injury of the day. It was bedtime, which meant it was time to get his jammies on and give him a last diaper change for the night. Emrick had been in a phase where he disliked having his diaper changed, but lately he has decided that diaper changes are a thrilling event to which one should make haste in wobbling, jubilant glee. When I say, “Pookie! Let’s go get your diaper changed,” Emrick squeals and bounds across the tile toward the formal living room (where our diaper station is temporarily located). Well, last night his “bounding” was extra jubilant, I guess, because about two seconds after he took off, he face-planted on the tile! I had never seen him do that before. He does still fall down sometimes, but he always catches himself on his hands and knees. This was different. I swooped down to pick him up as his contorted face became scarlet, and wet with tears. Screams. I went to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen corn. THE bag of frozen corn. It has inhabited our freezer for an undetermined amount of time now, and apparently I even cooked some of the corn from it once, because the bag is partially empty and sealed with a chip clip. However long ago that was, its only function in recent memory has been as a Pookie Bruise Soother. I held the bag against the big red circle that had appeared on his forehead, and I called for Marcus because I was scared that something serious was happening.
Marcus came downstairs and helped me look Pookie over. It was Marcus who noted the bump on Emrick’s lip, and the shallow pool of blood that had collected around his lower teeth. Poor Pookie must have bitten his lip when he fell. I continued to hold the corn to Pookie’s forehead (in two-second intervals, as Emrick allows) and I asked Marcus to get some ice and tuck it into a dishtowel. Emrick loves to bite on a dishtowel-covered ice cube when he is teething, but he wanted no part of it this time. His lip must have been extra sensitive. My poor baaaaaby!!!! I was so worried about him! But my worries soon abated when Emrick became playful again. That’s usually how he lets me know that his boo-boo doesn’t hurt anymore he is no longer upset. He grinned at me through his binkie and then took the bag of corn out of my hand and held it against MY face. Then we both giggled, and I knew he was all right.
He went to bed as usual and was just fine this morning, the seeming scowl in the picture above notwithstanding. The only unhappy ending to this story is that when I came downstairs this morning, I discovered the bag-o-corn still sitting out, on our green chair. It was no longer a bag of frozen corn, but a bag of corny water. Luckily, it didn’t leak onto the chair, but I decided not to refreeze it for two reasons: 1. I am pretty sure it would refreeze into a solid mass, making it less useful for bruise soothing, and 2. I didn’t want my mom to cook and serve it during one of her visits, not realizing that it was no longer edible (…though I imagine that when she opened the bag and saw that it contained a little bit of corn encased in a massive bag-shaped block of ice, she would probably have figured that out).
Anyway, onto the next bump: you’ll notice that Pookie has a red line on his left temple.
That one was less traumatic. Yesterday afternoon we were playing on the floor, while a plastic wastebasket happened to be close by. Pookie was sort of running and trying to reach into the wastebasket at the same time. He fell to his knees, with one hand already inside the basket, which meant that it came down with him, and the far side flipped up onto the side of his face. I am not explaining it very well, but the closest thing I can think of is the image of someone stepping on a rake, so picture that. Anyway, it didn’t break the skin, but it left a thin, red welt.
Luckily, neither the temple welt nor the lip bump seemed to bother him at all today.
There were so many cute, funny pictures of Emrick in his high chair this morning, that I better divide them into two posts. So look for Part Two in a day or so!
Feb 26
Bathtime!
We still bathe Emrick in a sink. Since he decided a few months ago that getting the shampoo rinsed out of his hair (which we do while making sure that no soap or water comes anywhere near his face or eyes) is The Most Horrible Thing in the World, and that he will fight us like cats and dogs to prevent the process, it seems that for now the sink is the safest place to bathe him. We have more control since we can stand up while we do it. Emrick used to not mind the rinsing, which I do with a sprayer. In fact, he LOVED the sprayer. A long time ago, getting his hair rinsed with the sprayer was the only time during the bath that he DIDN’T scream. Ah well. People change.
These pics were taken in our new laundry room… and by “new” I mean the one Marcus finished nearly ten months ago and which I never photographed for the blog. I’ll get some pics up this week!
Feb 25
Emrick’s First Snow
Well, not exactly his very first snow, but last month we actually took him outside in it so he could touch it and play with it. It’s been a freakily mild winter, with nowhere near the typical amount of snowfall, and when it does snow it doesn’t accumulate much. So a few weeks ago, when I saw that not only was it snowing, but it was sticking, and that we had a couple inches of it on our deck, I suggested to Marcus that we take Emrick out for a look.
After letting him walk around the deck for a while, I had a great idea to take him down the stairs to the lawn where he could run around more freely. We were down there about 30 seconds before Emrick delivered his verdict on this whole stand-in-the-freezing-cold-while-snow-piles-up-on-your-head-and-feet idea:
So there ended our venture into the snow. We went inside, took off our wet shoes and socks, and then cuddled Emrick until he was warm and dry. Sweet, sweet Pooks.
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