Feels like Egypt around here

At the time of the plagues that is. Lately it's been quite common to be sweeping or mopping the floor and come across one or two or three jumping frogs and toads. I don't know how Middle Son smuggles them in so ingeniously, I don't think I even want to know. I just know when he's coming back in the house he has this "I-did-something-bad" face on. But try as I might, I even frisked him once, I just can not find the toads/frogs! So, we'll deal with the occassional jumping creature, at least he's not smuggling in locusts. ;-)

OK so those of you that have known me for at least 4 years know what fun my Middle Son was as a baby. He liked to eat things. Especially things that weren't supossed to be eaten like pennies and medicine and carpet cleaning fluids. :-/ He also liked to climb high and too many times fall high. Oldest Son was like this too but he calmed down so much as he grew that it seems like a faint blurry memory. We have been to the ER with the first 2 boys at least 5 times combined. Probably more. My girls had their share of scary times but it was more natural things like ear infections & high fevers.

Enter Baby T. I'm not quite sure why I was given so many daredevil children but I'm not going to question God on it. I'm grateful for them all and love them more than anything but well, I am banking on a lot of gray this year.

The other night while I was cooking dinner Baby T and my 3yo were playing with the oversized rocks and gems I keep in a large coffee can. They like to sort them and count them and make up games with them. For some reason the scoop I have in there for the kids was a small glass bowl, like the kind you keep Betta fish in. You know that saying "Hindsight is 20/20"? Yeah, it's a bitch sometimes isn't it?

So he's standing on the chair with my 3yo DD playing nicely. I have my back to them cooking at the stove. I turn around to check on them just in time to see baby T fall off the chair with the bowl in his hand. I run over to him and pick him up and immediately see the stream of blood splattering onto the floor. I do what any self respected concerned mother would do, scream for DH (who has had prior medical training) to get in there. Now I'm good in emergencies, only if I'm the only one there. Otherwise I gladly give the medical reigns over to DH and I become The Nurturer. DH takes ones look and says he's going to need stitches, I try to make the room stop spinning. Thank God my dad is here because he was able to clean up the mess, finish dinner and watch the kids so we could go to the ER.

So let me fast forward through the waiting. We got great doctors and nurses for the most part. When they put in the stitches he cried but laid perfectly still. He was a trooper. Six stitches later DH is insisting I buy all kinds of pain meds for him at the store. I'm trying to tell him I don't think the baby is going to even miss a beat tomorrow but DH is thinking in terms of us adults and how much this would have affected us. Sure enough, by the next morning the baby hardly even mentions his "owie" and has adapted to use his forearm to climb up the playground instead of his hand. THey are simply amazing! The only time he gets upset is when we unwrap it to clean it he says "BUGGY! BUGGY!" because he thinks his stitches are bugs I'm assuming. LoL He really is a trooper.

When we followed up with the DR the first thing he said was "So this little guy is giving you a run for your money eh?" and I told him if he was anything like his brothers he hasn't seen the last of him.