Call It What You Want...

I have just tucked Mark into bed and am getting ready to do more cleaning and stuff, when I really need to be going off to the store and getting stuff for next week, because Tim is at the emergency room with Adam.

Yes. After a day of practicing reallly hard at being two -- the birthday is only two months, one week and five days away, after all -- Adam rebelled against pick-up time, too, and in the process of putting the scarves away stuck his head into the scarf bucket -- a metal popcorn tin. Except he hit the side of his eye on the edge of the tin and put a nice gash in the side of his left eyebrow.

Remember if you will just shy of two years ago, when Adam was a mere week old and Mark took a header off the church pew and put a hole above his right eyebrow.

Yes. I am now going to have a matching pair, I suppose.

*For those of you who wonder, while Tim was on the phone with the insurance company's nurse line, Adam was sitting quietly on my lap and watching a Thomas movie (turned on to distract him) only getting mad when I had the audacity to hold ice on the owie, which wasn't actively bleeding at the time, simply gaping. It's a 1/4-inch gash with smooth edges, and there's swelling on the edge of the browbone area. He'll be fine.

Returned from the hospital, Adam just wanted to cuddle Mommy -- or play -- but definitely not go to bed. He got glue and is fine. :)