Today Was a Day From...Well, You Know...

I believe some of you might remember me complaining about an eye ailment a few months ago. I was a good girl and went to see an eye doctor about it the very next day. Turns out I had inflammation of the eye in both eyes. The opthalmalogist treated the problem by giving me steroid drops to use every two hours, and had me keep my pupils dilated with a different set of drops. I know, joy of my life.

I didn't mind the steroids so much as keeping my pupils dilated. Not only could I not look at anything up close (homework, people, my phone) without wearing those super-magnified granny reading glasses, but I was also super-sensitive to light so I had to wear sunglasses everywhere I went. (This pretty much made me look like friggin' Lady Gaga's geeky wannabe stepsister.) I got over it though when the pain, redness, and clouded vision went away and things were looking good. I went back for a few follow up appointments, and the doctor had me taper off of the eyedrops (because if I were to stop using them too suddenly, my eyes would flare up again with a vengeance). I finally got to stop dilating my pupils, which was nice because I could read and type and look into my kids' faces without using reading glasses. I only just stopped taking the steroids about a week ago. Over last weekend, my eyes promptly started giving me problems again. I tried to pretend it wasn't happening, that is was just sinus pressure or eye strain, but no. Of course not.

I called the eye doctor's office and they said that it was critical for the doctor to see me TODAY. I made the only appointment available, which was approximately 40 minutes from when I got off the phone with them. My son was at school and needed to be picked up during the time I was supposed to be at the doctor's office. I called my mom's house, and someone was on the other line. I called her cell and it was turned off. I called my sister's cell, it was turned off. In a last ditch effort to find SOMEONE to pick up my son from school, I called my mom's house one more time. Mom answered, and graciously agreed to pick him up for me. I then jumped into the shower, left my hair wet, and got dressed. By then, I had 20 minutes to get to get to an appointment that was at least a 20 minute drive away. I went to get my daughter so I could take her with me, and she had been rather busy making a mess in her diaper. I cleaned her up, put her into her coat, got my shoes and jacket on, and then strapped her into her car seat. Knowing I would need a place to strap her into while I was being looked over by the doctor, I grabbed her child carrier seat from the basement and threw it into the van.

As I was driving to the appointment, I looked at the clock. 9:42--I had 8 minutes to make a 15 minute drive. (Tyler probably could have made it in five, but he's a better driver than I am, and I like being alive, so I drive a bit slower.) I called the doctor's office and warned them that I would be late. I then somehow managed to hit every red light and get stuck behind every slow-moving driver between my house and the opthalmalogist's office. Not to mention the jerk-wad that pulled out in front of me, nearly causing me to crash into them (You're on my list, Punk! Whoever you are!) Somehow, I managed to get to the appointment (After turning into the wrong parking lot and very nearly driving into the building itself when I mistook the gas pedal for the brake). I was only about 10 minutes late--a freaking miracle if there ever was one!

I waited for around 20 minutes to see the doctor, who looked at my eyes, told me they were inflamed again (Hmmm, really?) and told me to start the steroid drops every two hours again and use the dilation drops three times a day for a week, when he would want to see me again. Okay, sounds good. Let's get this taken care of. I made the new appointment, got my stuff gathered together, and then went out into the lobby and saw that it was raining cats and dogs outside.

I love rain, but its presence today meant that I would need to get all of my stuff, as well as my daughter, all put together correctly before I went outside so I could move quickly. I got her unbuckled from her carrier seat and placed the diaper bag inside of it while I put her back into her coat. Then she wriggled away from me while I was trying to get my coat on and managed to bump her head (gently) in the exact spot where she managed to severely bruise it just the other day and promptly started screaming and crying in pain. I picked her up, along with the carrier seat and my purse, and walked out into the deluge of rain.

I got to the van and, arms completely full, realized that I had no idea where my keys were. I dug around in my purse (genuine leather, by the way, and getting wetter by the second), then all of my pockets, and couldn't find them. My daugher and I were both drenched before I finally found the right pocket and opened the door. I strapped my daugher into her car seat and then threw the carrier seat, diaper bag, and my now water-speckled purse inside before slamming the sliding door shut, opened my door, and climbed inside--fuming.

I went to Mom's house and picked up my son, and then the kids and I went home.

Luckily, things started looking up after that and the rest of the day actually went pretty well. But I was in a crabby mood for the entire morning. Grrrr....*Deep Breath*....*Sigh*...

Okay, I'm done. Sorry about the ranting, but it needed to happen.

Celebration, Charles Dickens, and a Bit of a Scare...

I am officially finished with this school semester! Yay Me! I definitely showed NO MERCY whatsoever, and got everything finished up. Now I can finally start reading Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." It's my own annual Chirstmas tradition. (No, I'm not a geek! Okay, maybe I am...)

I love that story. It makes me happy on so many levels. Dickens is an absoloute genius, and there is NO way that anyone will be able to convince me otherwise. I've read most of his amazingness, with a goal to one day read everything he's ever written. If you haven't read any of dear Charles' work, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!? READ IT! READ IT NOW!!!

Anyway...on to other things....

My daughter is learning to walk, and yesterday she had a very unpleasant wake up call.

I was sitting on the floor, having read her favorite book to her several times (She LOVES books! Already a bookworm. I couldn't be prouder!) Then she wanted to play one of her favorite new games where she starts by the couch and walks toward me and falls into my arms, laughs, and then stands up and walks back to the couch.

After we had played a few rounds of this game, my daughter somehow took the proverbial "left turn at Alberquerque" and headed across the room at a right angle from her original course. I watched as though in slow motion as she stumbled and then fell face first to the floor, smacking her forehead--hard--on the leg of our computer chair. Oh the crying! I felt SOOO terrible! The resulting purple bruise that bloomed between her eyebrows just about ripped my heart out.

She seemed to be fine, other than the enormous goose egg bruise on her forehead and later on she went down for a nap. She woke up, and then seemed to be a bit sleepier than usual. Worried, my husband and I decided it would be wise to take her to the doctor to make sure everything was ok. She had a Level One concussion.

Apparently there are three levels of concussions. Level Three is marked by the victim being knocked unconscious for 5 minutes or more. It's very severe. Level two is marked by a period of unconsciousness for less than 5 minutes, and is less serious, but still needs to be watched closely. Level one basically means, and I'm quoting the doctor here: "She got hit in the head, but everything is normal and she's just fine. A kid could take a Lego to the head and be considered a Level One concussion." As silly as this description may sound, I was pretty relieved to hear it. I'm a real worrier, especially when it comes to my kids.

My daughter is doing quite well today, and the bruise on her forehead is actually kind of shaped like a heart. It still looks painful though, the poor little thing seems to have inherited my ridiculous talent for personal injuries. Hopefully she'll grow out of it.