The Little Angel Falls

The little angel has grown a new personality.  I'm not sure if it is caused by a growth phase or her combination ear infection/sore mouth.  She now cries "Mama, mama," and clambors onto my lap at every possible moment.  She also will dramatically place her forehead on the floor in a praying-to-Mecca pose if I do not immediately pick her up and tell her she is, of course, the most beautiful little angel in the whole word, kiss, kiss.

On Saturday, twenty minutes before guests were due to arrive, the little angel was playing next to a wooden bench in our foyer.  I was watching her, then (just like the stories go - cue Fatal Attraction music), I turned my back to put away some of her toys. 

Thump.  SCREAM!  Blood.  Lots of blood.  I scooped her up and carried her squalling self over to the sink to rinse her now-bleeding lip.  Apparently she either thumped her mouth on the bench or just thumped her chin, thus causing her very pointy teeth to go through her lip.  All I know is that it was the first major blood I've seen, and blood is a scary thing.  She also bled on my new J.Jill tank top, something I tried hard, as a good mother, to overlook, but couldn't completely.

My beloved made fun of me.  "I don't know," he said, as I frantically dialed Ask a Nurse.  "Maybe we should call an ambulance." 

Of course Ask a Nurse, as they are wont to do due to our society's obsession with litigation, overhyped my worry like a Fox season finale trailer.  "Is it gaping?" the woman asked.  "She might need stitches." By this time the little angel was distracted by a stuffed duck.  She held her bloody arms out to it and laughed.  "Um, no," I said. "Not so much gaping."

"Is the wound more than one-fourth inch long?"

I peered at her mouth.  Her entire lip is not that long.  "Um, no," I said.  "I actually think she's okay."

"You need to wash that out right away," she said.  "She might get an infection."

I debated whether to tell her the little angel has been freebasing Augmentin since February.  "I think she's pretty good in the antibiotic department," I said. 

"You should wash the area of dirt and debris." 

Dirt and debris?  "The cleaning people just came on Thursday," I stammered, not sure what assumptions this woman was making about my housekeeping skills.

"OH," she said.  "I thought she fell outside."

Aha!  See where assumptions get you?

So we changed her clothes and mine and got ready for the party.  Now, a day later, the little angel looks sort of like Pamela Anderson after her latest round with the Collagen Fairy.  But it seems to be healing fairly well.  Her wound did not stop her from doing any of the following:  Sucking on a washcloth during her bath, insisting on a paci all day (we gave in, figuring she was in pain), ingesting an entire carton of yogurt plus 10 green beans, two chicken nuggets, a mini pita and countless appetizer Cheerios at dinner (this is way more than normal for her) or stage-diving off her PBK anywhere chair before bed. 

She also learned to say "book" this weekend, a fact that endears her even more to my own heart.  She loves her books so much that she will sneak over to the corner where the non-board, "good" variety live in an attempt to stare lovingly at their pages and rip the covers to shreds in the process.

I guess she will live.  Man, though, that blood thing sucks.

She's getting her ear tubes at the end of June.  Lord help her not get ANOTHER ear infection before then!