- The past couple days there was quite the brouhaha that amounted to "THE BLIZZARD! THE BLIZZARD IS COMING!" And then nothing. Well, not nothing, but no snow or sleet or anything here, just a lot of bitterly cold temps and strong wind, strong enough, in fact, to knock our power out for a couple hours (and interrupt our recording of Downton Abbey, which I am trying to take in stride as a First World Problem. It's kind of working.). What's really amazing is that the power went out right about 9 pm, and was restored at 11 pm. You guys, the high today is 1 degree Fahrenheit. I don't even know how cold it was last night, and the wind gusts were strong enough to make our house shift and creak and groan. We could feel the temperature inside the house slowly dropping just during the two hours we were without heat. First of all: How did people survive one and two hundred years ago up here? Second: I feel both gratitude that our power was turned back on so quickly but also a little horrified that a crew from the power company had to go outside and fix whatever was wrong. Strong winds, below freezing temps, electrical stuff possibly involving heights: all dangerous on their own, but put together? Yeesh. Thanks, power company guys.
- While the crew from the power company were risking life and limb so that we could continue our pampered existence, our little family was tucked snug into our beds, because it was the warmest place to be. Neither Derek nor I had fallen asleep when we heard a kind of muffled thud, and then Caedmon started crying. I thought he had fallen out of bed, and so shuffled into his room, picked him up off the floor, rubbed his back while he cried and wailed something about bonking his face on the bed (which I more or less ignored, because apparently that's just what I do), then got ready to lay him back in his bed. As I turned him toward the candlelight, I noticed something dark smeared all over his face and took new note of the wet kind of snuffling sound he was making. After retrieving both my glasses and a flashlight, I was able to verify that sure enough, his face was completely covered in blood. Honestly, that kid looked like something out of a horror movie, and he was pretty freaked out by his reflection in the bathroom mirror. (I was too, especially as someone who studiously avoids looking into the bathroom mirror when I venture in there at night; I blame hearing one too many tellings of the story Bloody Mary when I was a kid). Eventually I got Caedmon cleaned up, changed both his and my own blood-covered jammies, found all the blankets and pillows speckled with blood, and scrubbed it out of the carpet. Let me tell you what, he may not be a star... well, anything at this point, but the kid can bleed like a champ. We're so proud.
- See these little things?
Me: Adelaide, why are you crying?
Adelaide: *Cries, sobs, does ugly snot things*
Me: Adelaide. Daddy and I know what happened, and I know Atticus is crying because he's kind of freaked out to have that pellet in his ear. What I need to know now is why you are crying.
Adelaide: B-b-because I don't want Atticus to have a BB in his ear!
Me: You're crying because you don't want Atticus to have a BB in his ear?
Adelaide: (wails) YEAH! What if something happens and he can't hear again and it's ALL MY FAULT! *dissolves into tears again*
Me: (laughing in relief) Oh, good! I was afraid you were crying because you didn't want to get in trouble, but you're crying because you actually feel bad about what you did. That's great!
Adelaide: *cries harder*
We weren't able to get the pellet out ourselves, but the doctor did it in a trice first thing next morning, and even sent home the "BB getter" (her words, because she's good with kids) just in case we need to use it again (hopefully not because she can see in to the future). I'm hoping we only have one toy-stuck-in-a-facial-orifice incident per kid, because that would mean we have two down and only one to go (Adelaide stuck a Barbie shoe up her nose when she was two. I still don't know why).
- In addition to Atticus's pellet in the ear, Thursday also brought one of these:
I took this pic Sunday, three days after the doorknob attacked Caedmon's face (I was standing right there, and I'm still not entirely sure how this happened), and it looks way better than it did a few hours after the fact. For some reason this photo makes me laugh, perhaps because he looks like such a bruiser here, and not the sweet boy who beckons me to bend down several times a day just so he can repeatedly smooch my cheek then proudly announce, "I kissed you FOUR TIMES!"
I hope things have been blessedly un-exciting for all of you, dear friends.