...sore thumb? Where did that saying come from, anyway? Because as I sit here thinking about things that "stick out," a sore thumb is probably one of the very LAST things that would come to mind. A broken thumb, perhaps. But not a sore thumb. Sorry. For the purpose of this post, I'm going with "sticks out like a black eye." Something that actually seems to make a little bit of sense. And is relevant to my children, who are not currently experiencing thumb pain.
The story I'm about to relate happened two weeks ago, before Jeff was fulfilling his John Wesley Powell fantasies and rafting down the Colorado River, aka the Grand Canyon. I am just now able to talk about it. One morning, McKay had just awoken from his nap and Kyla asked if she could go in and talk to him. I told her yes, even though I knew that "talk to him" really meant "crawl in his crib with him," because I was doing something else and needed to buy a few minutes before I went to get him out of bed. It wasn't long before I heard a gigantic THUD followed by a very hurt little baby cry. My first thought was that Kyla had dropped him on the floor (unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time). I yelled upstairs and asked her what was going on, and she brought him out to me. He clearly had a circular carpet burn about the size of a silver dollar above his eye and he was a little pale. He was also whimpering and just laid on my shoulder when I took him from Kyla. I began questioning her, asking what had happened. At first, she tried to tell me that she didn't know. Finally, though, she confessed.
"I tried to frow him on the bed." WHAT?! Suddenly my heart started beating faster, as I realized what had happened. She had climbed into his crib, as I expected, picked him up, and thought that she would be able to throw him from the crib onto the bed. Obviously he didn't make it. My mind ran through worst case scenarios, such as he fell straight down onto his head, not even grazing the bed, and I began checking for serious injury. Kyla was hysterical. McKay, who was no longer crying, but still a little pale, seemed unaffected. But still, I made him sit up and perform his usual "tricks," such as reaching for things with both hands. He seemed okay. But I was still worried and so scared.
After a while, the carpet burn faded and normal coloring returned to his face. He was acting normally, eating and sleeping, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief when it seemed he was going to be just fine. I asked Kyla to reenact the event for me, so I could try to determine EXACTLY what had happened. She demonstrated how he hit the edge of the bed and slid to the floor. I hoped with all my might that that was actually what happened. She told me, "I'm not a good frower." No, I think not.
The next day, his left eye looked a little swollen, and he eventually developed some light green bruises newt to his eye, but mostly escaped the situation unscathed. And believe me, I know how lucky we are about that.
The REAL black eye story happened while we were in St. George. Carter, yet again, let his cousin, Jayda pick on him. She pinched his cheek, and must have really had a hold on him, because it turned black and blue underneath the eye the next day. Then, to add injury to injury, when we got home, Kyla thought it would be funny to scare him while he was in the bathtub. However, this caused him to bump the top of his eye on the faucet. I have had a hard time getting a good picture of it, but you can see it a little bit here.
Yesterday, it had really turned some pretty colors. I needed Damon's help to get a good picture. I'm sure the girls are jealous of that natural eye shadow! And believe me, it sticks out much more than a sore thumb would have.
So...I guess you could say that preschool couldn't have come at a better time for Kyla. Or her black-eyed brothers. She started on Tuesday and had to have some pictures of her own. Nice pose here.
After changing her mind repeatedly about what she wanted to wear, she finally decided on this little dress. Definitely fitting, seeing how she loves wearing skirts and dresses so much.
Here she is hanging up her backpack and saying good-bye to me. Clearly, she isn't nervous at all. So it's surprising that she burst into tears only moments later when I had to leave. It actually is a little surprising. Kyla usually doesn't have separation anxiety. Well, unless she is separating from Grandma Karen. Then it's quite bad. But she doesn't usually have a problem separating from me. It did break my heart a little to have to leave her there when she was upset. Fortunately, she had a fantastic day and has been so excited to go back every day since.
