Last week was Pudding Pie's Week In The Wars.
On Wednesday, she fell during an activity class and gave herself a blood nose. Lots of blood and hugs and tears later and she was fine, but we created quite a stir and mommy's t-shirt looked like something from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The worst part was that when she fell, it didn't look like anything. She didn't fall from atop anything high , she just kind of tripped over her feet and then fell face first onto the hard carpet. I thought 'oh-oh, that'll hurt a bit' and started toward her, but I picked up the pace when I heard her 'for real' cries.
Thursday was shot day and that's never pretty, but she was brave and it was over quick.
Friday was uneventful.
Saturday we were at our favorite haunt: The sand park. Lots of glorious fun in the sand, steamy hot sunshine and then on to the water park to cool off and get sand out of the fat rolls. Pudding Pie has always been enthused about the sand park but kind of so-so about the water park. Lately that has started to change and on Saturday she was having a blast, racing through the water sprays, lots of excited squealing, too cute. In the middle of all this running and squealing, she tripped over her own feet - again and sprawled forward on the concrete. I felt ill and snatched her up. She howled in pain and blood poured out of her mouth. Blood, tears, big commotion and another t-shirt from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
She's fine now, she bit down hard on her lip and cut it horribly, but it is amazing how quickly these little bodies get to healing up.
Mom is traumatized, I really don't like the down side of increased toddler mobility . . .
At the sand park, just before taking a spill.