Ick.

Finger Update.

Ruby made her return to preschool today following the action-packed winter break, and I think she actually relished the opportunity to get up during circle time and explain to her friends and teachers how her finger got cut off.

She has played mountain climber, yoga instructor, karate expert, and superhero in the last few days following our ER visit, so I suspect she's going to come out of this experience a-ok. In fact, she's already making "don't get your finger cut off" jokes to people when they leave for the store, so she's even got a sense of humor about the whole thing.

We've made a couple bandage changes and, though it appears to be healing on schedule, it's still G-R-O-S-S to look at. Following our doctor appointment on Wednesday I'll try to post a couple pictures of finger without bandages for those who are curious. Still not for the faint of heart.

Many thanks to everyone for your kind words, prayers, and concern about our girl. We love her so very much and it's nice to know we're not alone in that.

Giving the Finger

Many of you know by now that yesterday Ruby had an accident that required an ambulance trip, several hours in the ER at Regions Hospital, and a cosmetic surgeon/hand specialist. She suffered a finger avulsion while out shopping with her mother, which is the medical term for "getting the end of your finger cut off." (n.b. Do NOT google this term if you are squeamish or vomit easily!) It wasn't totally severed, but rather hanging precariously from a little bit of skin/tissue. I (Melissa) called 911 and Ruby was rushed off while Cecilia and I raced to the hospital in the van. Once there she was medicated for the pain, given x-rays, and then basically watched cartoons until the specialist could come in and repair her finger. It was a long and exhausting day but Ruby was incredibly brave - I suppose this happens when you're in the ER/hospital as frequently as she is - and the Motrin and ice cream have made the aftereffects manageable for Rubes.

As I explained to Adam this morning, I felt calm and in control the whole time yesterday. I did not panic, I spoke calmly and confidently to both of my children throughout the ordeal, made quick decisions, and the three of us took deep breathes together when things were especially scary. I feel really proud of the way I handled the incident, even though I was scared out of my mind. In fact, one of the paramedics even told me I was handling everything exceptionally well. But today, even as a I see Ruby playing (and fighting) with her sister just like it was any other day, I feel like I need to lay down and sob for a few hours to purge my body of the fear and panic that I managed to suppress so well yesterday. The need to keep one's children safe and protected is a powerful thing that I know all parents feel, and when that becomes even the least bit threatened it can be deeply upsetting.

Thankfully she will be fine (though she might never grow a fingernail again), and I will be fine, and if this is the worst thing that happens to us in 2010 then we've still got it pretty damn good. And the fact that it's New Year's Eve and we have several bottles of champagne chilling in the fridge just makes it that much easier...

My Heart Pumps Peanut Butter For You.

This was a favorite saying of a high school teacher of mine. She would pull it out whenever a student would make an excuse, however credible, for not having done their homework, studied for a test, etc.

I thought of it tonight. As some of you have heard by now, today after school Cici was trying out a friend's scooter, and fell headfirst onto the sidewalk. She has a huge goose egg on her forehead, but is otherwise fine.

Anyway, tonight I was putting the girls to bed as usual, and as usual, neither one of them was cooperating very well. I tend to be a little harder on Cici these days, simply because she's older and should know that imitating whatever crap Ruby is trying to pull at the moment is a bad idea.

So, tonight I had reached the final straw with her, and finally I just said to her, "Cecilia, what is going on here? You know what you're supposed to do at bedtime. It's the same every night. You brush your teeth, go potty, get your jammies on, and get into bed. It's the same four things, every single night. So why is it that every night you don't listen to me, and every night you pretend you don't know what you're supposed to do, and every night you let it get to the point where I have to yell at you to get you to do what you know you're supposed to do?"

Silence.

I said, "Well?"

And Cici said: "You know, I got hurt today . . ."

The Eyes Have It

Cici got in a fight with some playground equipment this week. She lost.