It's possible that I'm a bit of dirty bird

Yesterday I finally pulled out the vacuum to do a post-Christmas suck of the living room rug and furniture. I'd put it off long enough and it was getting nasty.

I was just plugging in the vacuum when Emily noticed what I was doing.

Emily: Are you vacuuming, Mummy?
Me: Yup.
Emily: (short pause)

Emily: Is Omi coming?

The most crappiest day of the year

It has been a rough couple of days around here. So rough, in fact, that I didn't even want to put it down on (virtual) paper. But one of the reasons I have this blog is to keep a record of my days with the kids, events, situations we get into so that when I'm old and decrepit and flirting with senility, they can rely on the blog to answer their questions rather than their mother who only wants to talk about scrambled eggs or something equally riveting.

Hope's three great nights were clearly a way for the universe to prepare me for a couple of craptacular nights. Friday night she was up several times. I think in the end she was too warm. I finally changed her into something else and she slept for four hours straight but only after I'd been up a whole whack of times. During one of those ups, I fed her. I'm not sure if this reset her switch but last night she was up a lot again and wanting boob. I didn't give in until 4:00 but that was after a few visits to her room. So, those were the nights. Let me turn to the days.

Yesterday a very bad thing happened. Something that John knows will never be the butt of a joke or the punch line or be referred to with humour. Ever.

Hope burned her hand on the stove.

I've always considered myself fairly safety-conscious but not over-the-top about it. If I have an outlet without covers, I don't get too concerned. There are gates where there should be and I don't leave matches, hot cups of coffee, knives or chainsaws lying around. I try to strike an even balance between safe and neurotic. But there is something in our house that has bothered me for a while: it's Emily's step stool in the kitchen. Over the last two years she has used it as a table and then as her stool to help me bake and now cook. I've never been comfortable with her pulling it to the stove when she helps us stir a pot. I always say no and move the pot somewhere else. I don't know what happened Friday. I don't know why I let her do it. She helped stir the macaroni and cheese. I turned the burner off (also, I never use the front burners... why did I do it Friday?), Emily climbed down, I turned towards the sink to get the bowls from the cupboard. My back was turned for 10 seconds before I heard Hope scream and start crying. She was on the top of the step stool holding her hands out. I grabbed her, I ran, I got her hand under the tap. I think I ran to a couple of different sinks trying to find the perfect position, the magic water that would make her stop screaming and make time move backwards.

I called Telehealth Ontario and the nice nurse walked me through the steps to determine how bad the burn was. She didn't actually give it a degree but I think it is a minor second degree burn. She had immediate white blisters on the sides of two fingers in small areas and then a large white blister between her third and fourth finger. I immersed her hand in water for 10 minutes (no small feat). Then it was nap time for her. She cried and screamed and held her hand in the air and sucked her fingers. I got her dressed, we all got in the car and I started to drive hoping she'd go to sleep. She cried and screamed.

We finally stopped for ice cream. It seemed to make the afternoon better for her. Cookies and cream can do that. We picked up John and headed to Mike and Cibele's for supper. Hope fell off the couch and banged her head on the coffee table while my back was turned getting a DVD going for Emily. Score another one for slacker moms. I'm expecting their call any day now inviting me to be their new spokeswoman.

To say that I felt sick to my stomach the rest of the day (and most of today) is a huge understatement. I should have moved that stool. I shouldn't have let Emily put it there in the first place. I shouldn't have gone to the library so late that morning so I wasn't so rushed to get lunch ready that day. I can't change any of it now but oh, if I could.

The large blister has now popped and I'm applying Polysporin. There doesn't seem to be any pain now. She crawls around on it and grabs things. She seems to favour it a little but not too much. She cried a lot today but now I've figured out that she's getting another tooth and it isn't her hand that's making her so unhappy.

Hope seems to suffer with teething worse than Emily did. Emily had a hard time but not like Hope. Emily got her teeth later and I think that might be part of it. I just don't remember it being so bad. Hope is suffering for sure. Her missing skin probably isn't helping, nor is her negligent mother.

So, I have to get her hand checked next week but it seems okay. There is some swelling and there was some clear fluid leaking before the big blister burst. Does anyone know if that is normal or okay?

Now, here I sit hoping I get a few hours of sleep in a row tonight. My only pyjamas are in the dryer and I feel pretty shitty. I teach Sunday School tomorrow and only started to prepare the lesson at 9:00 tonight. I'm feeling pretty good about that.

I sure hope tomorrow is better. Oh, and before anyone tells me "don't worry, I dropped my baby on his head several times; we all do it," I'll just say: please save it. I don't think what happened is okay or excusable in any way and no, it doesn't happen to everyone.

It shouldn't happen to anyone.