And.....There's the cherry on top!

So, this week has been just stellar...and by stellar, I really mean sucked.

This week solidified my disqualification for "Wicked Awesome Parent of the Year", you know, since my son seems to have a death wish. Kids can be challenging, OK fine, I get it...but I was not prepared for the world of the Y chromosome. I had these two girls. While not perfect albeit...they were relatively safe...meaning that I didn't fear their lives in their own hands.

Henry on the other hand...well, he is a whole other animal. At 1 year old, he tried to crawl out a window in our den, thankfully on the first floor. I was in the kitchen and hear him yelling "HI". It sounded like it was coming from the outside, so I frantically ran out side only to find him smooshed between the screen and the window standing on the sill yelling "Hi" to the birds in the yard...yeah I should have been sufficiently warned at that point...I know. But clearly I am more dense than that.

I have thankfully gotten him to 3 with only minor visits to the Dr. But yesterday alone, He fell top to bottom down the stairs...I came flying around the corner to see him tumbling head over heal and bouncing to the bottom of the stairs only to land on my exercise ball (which he had thrown down the stairs just before he threw himself down) which then bounced him into the living room like a projectile doll. Now you are saying to yourself...here comes the ambulance...no, not yet. He was fine, cried about his chin that had apparently hit something on the way down, but all in all was unscathed, and I think got some joy out of being bounced on the ball.

I put him down in his room, after I made sure that his pupils were still straight and there was no irregular drooling or anything. Only to hear a huge collateral BANG about 20 minutes into his "nap." I ran up stairs to find his dresser collapsed onto the floor with the drawers out. He had pulled them out to use them as steps to getup to the top to get something...thankfully he escaped being crushed under large furniture, and was standing there looking at me, like "did you see that??? that was soooo cool."

I know that you child proofing gurus are shaking your head and wagging your finger at me..but you know what? GIRLS DON'T DO THAT STUFF...How was I supposed to know that the Y chromosome makes 2-3 year old's have brilliant ideas like "lets see if this 400 pound chunk of wood will sustain my balancing act and jumping routine!"!?!?!

THEN... yes folks, the story is just not over yet, I went to pick my girls up at the bus stop. We live on a long dirt road that walks by a little waterfall/pond/death trap, what ever you want to call it. Every day the girls and Henry want to stop and throw stones in the pond. I am always lecturing them on pond etiquette and stream safety...I really am. (my sister knows how weird I am about that!) Henry wants to throw stones in, so I am holding his hand on the low bank, I let go to put my hood up, and SPLASH. Yup you guessed it, my little man falls IN the stream...which is probably 20 below zero because at this point it is flowing with newly melted ice and snow...I yank him up carry him home and put him in a warm bath.

All is well, but some how, I am feeling a little beat up and just done. I have to tell you it was a 2 glass night! (of wine that is)

But the cherry on top? I cut the tip of my thumb OFF cutting my apple. Now I know that I have a tendency to exaggeration, so I can see you all rolling your eyes and saying...oh pie, you are so funny....OK, NOT FUNNY. The top of my thumb now has a divot in it...like what happens when I try to drive off the tee golfing with my mom...yup that is my thumb. It hurts like hell, but I am pretty sure that I didn't mix any thumb with apple...so I guess that is the bright spot.

I am glad that it is Friday and Jamie will be home, because I am going to need help inflating the bubble that I am putting Henry in until he is 25, and searching for thumb pieces on the floor......

Have a good weekend all....signing off to bolt all loose objects down.