The Fall

     So, it's Friday night, my husband is out with his buddies, and I've finally, finally got a moment to be awake and write. I guess I'll start with the the most recent occurrence and work backwards. Thanks to a New Years resolution of sorts, we are eating based on the Zone diet these days. For those of you who don't know, basically this diet means I gotta cut up a bunch of veggies every night. Which isn't a bad thing, don't get me wrong. So, I get home from work a couple days ago, I feed the kiddies their dinner and then Bubu and Peewee "help" me prep dinner for daddy.

     In our kitchen, we have an island so I put two bar stools at the counter, and they basically transfer veggies from one bowl to another. Well, I know it's so cliche to say this but, it happened so fast. Peewee, who is 18 months old now, climbed up on to the counter from her stool. I told her to get down, but she didn't listen to me...maybe because she's 18 months old...and she fell. On her face.

     First of all, she's fine. Thank God. But I didn't know in the moment. She started crying. I scooped her up trying to figure out what to do next. I checked fingers, arms, legs, checked for blood anywhere, anything broken? No. I ran and dug my phone out of my purse and tried my husband, knowing he probably wouldn't answer because he's at crossfit class. I start texting 911 to his phone knowing it's a futile effort. I give up. Then I sit down with Peewee and she's lethargic so I start to worry. I call my sister en law in North Carolina. No answer. I can't call ANY parent for fear of the "why was she on the counter?" question. So, I call my big brother.

    Isn't it interesting, who you end up trusting the most in your life? So he answers the phone, I blurt out what happened, and I wait for his advice. He tells me to call the doctor while he googles it and texts me what google says. Sounds like a plan. I call the after hours nurse, with Bubu stuck on his bar stool at the kitchen counter asking if he can get down now...and me saying, Peewee is hurt Bubu, gimme 5 minutes ok? I can't help but wonder if Peewee is brain damaged but within 10 minutes she's navigating normally on my iphone so I start to relax.

    About 30 minutes later, my husband had come home. Peewee was running around with Bubu at this point laughing and playing, with me stunned silent staring at them run circles around me.

    Let me go ahead and admit, it was a bad idea to put my "climber" on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. I should have known better. Bubu never climbs shit so I guess I wasn't prepared. Peewee the daredevil, the trooper, the bruiser, should no longer be the "Peewee".