Razor Blades and Birthday Week

Just a quickie. I have to capture one of Esther's more insane maneuvers in her whole lifetime from just this week:

I'm working on the computer, Jon is doing dishes. Leah is playing Pollys or ponies or Groovy Girls or making a CareBear motorhome out of blocks, and Esther, who doesn't really like to play, but rather explore and terrorize, was doing the usual. And since the only bathroom that currently has a toilet installed was closed up tight, I thought all was well in the universe . . .

Until I heard Jon scream bloody murder. He never screams, let alone a bloody scream. And then he said, "ESTHER HAS RAZOR BLADES!" My first thought? "What in the hell?" (Long e on 'the'---it sounds more deliberate and white trash.) I ran from the "office" to the scene of doom. Blood pools everywhere. Esther screaming. Four five-inch razor blades, covered in blood, on the floor. Me lightheaded and wondering if my child is going to bleed to death right then and right there. Is this 9-1-1 worthy? Jon says no.

I quickly got some slightly damp rags and we each took a hand and held her in a vice clamp (legs wrapped around her squirrely body) and applied direct pressure to her four bloody fingers. For one whole hour. They would NOT stop bleeding. Somewhere in that process I told Jon I had to leave for a few minutes. (Things like this make my anxiety issues flare--just a tad, let's say--and it brings out the 'flight' reflex in me.)

So, all's well that ends well. Esther's fingers finally stopped bleeding long enough for us to put some bandages on them. She stopped crying, and we were able to get her to sleep. She slept like a rock after the trauma of the incident.

And why, you may ask, did an 18 month old have access to five-inch razor blades? She's a rascal. And we're (Jon?) careless. During our bathroom remodel---which hasn't seen any action in over two weeks---"we" used razor blades and left them in a pretty accessible place. OOPS! Good thing it was just 4 fingers!

Funny sidenote: While this was all happening, our very concerned and very agro Stake Primary President called and left a message asking why I wasn't at a meeting that I was supposed to be at and had NO intention of going to. I didn't take the call because I was preoccupied, but after everything was taken care of, I called her back and left a short message on her cell, which I later realized seemed a little creepy: "Hi, J. I'm sorry I didn't make it to the meeting, but my daughter just cut herself with razor blades and I had to take care of that." Sure enough, I got a consolation phone call a few minutes later, in which I cleared everything up. Made for a dramatic excuse.

And then, because it was 106 freakin' degrees here, we drove to Monterey. Actually, it was just a coincidence that it was 106 degrees and Monterey was a balmy and beautiful 60-80 degrees. The real reason we went to Monterey for two nights? It's birthday week for yours truly. And not just ANY birthday. The dawning of a new decade. I'm turning 30. (Wait, do you not start the new decade until you're 31? I remember the whole Millenium debacle when everyone kept saying, "Actually, the new millenium doesn't start until 2001." I always wanted to say, "who in the--long e--hell cares? Let us have our excitement, ex lax." Or something of that nature. So, if you were thinking, "it technically isn't a new decade until you're 31" (or is it? i'm still totally confused), repeat the question about 3 or 4 sentences back and you'll see how much I care about your trivia.) Wow. That was abusive and downright negative. So birthday week begins, and I think I'm the only one celebrating. I told Jon of my birthday week idea, and he thinks it's absolutely preposterous. Well, too bad, because I'm just going to have to pamper myself since he won't. And I'm decent at that.

By the way, Monterey was beautiful, Carmel? fabulous----if you haven't been there, please GO. And our friends we got to see? Welcoming, hospitable, and very very very fun. (Hi Lolly Girl, miss you already!)

So don't cry for me Argentina, about razor blades or the jon's lack of commitment to birthday week, because I went to Monterey and that will keep me refreshed for about 8.5 hours from now, when I have to wake up and take care of the screaming gypsies (my lovely daughters). Woe is my wonderful life! Waaa, waaaa, waaaaa............................

oh yeah, one more thing: please join my prayers that we didn't get poison oak on our Point Lobos nature walks this morning. Leah and I were touching and naming all of the wildflowers we saw: "puffer bellies," "spikey soft," "purple dragon," "orange dragon," "white dragon," "yellow dragon" (do you see a pattern here?) until the cute little docent man showed us what poison oak looked like and we realized that it was the majority of plantlife on our hikes. I am itching, but praying that it is more of a mental state than a physical one.

*I just re-read sentence number one: "just a quicky." Oops. Guess I'm longwinded tonite.