….or you could also say:
YAY, ORANGE BIRD!
Ah, the memories.
Mmm, citrus swirl.
I REMEMBER HIM!
Or maybe – TRUE DISNEY NERD.
The original Orange Bird, created exclusively for the Magic Kingdom when it opened, has made a happy reappearance in Adventureland. I seriously was super excited about this. I remember him vividly from my childhood, he’s freaking cute, and come on – he has an orange for a head.
And in a strange twist of fate, he helped impress some people in my new office….
More on that another day. And that is why I’ve been missing. Big changes afoot!Read More
I am TERRIBLY accident prone. For reals, yo. I managed to fracture my foot in two spots about a week to two weeks after I had my son by walking into a ROCKING CHAIR. Then I waited almost three months to have it checked out. Yes, I haz the smartz.
Monkey Man is proving to be as klutzy as myself. From a chipped tooth to a big black eye, this kid seems like he’s always doing something to his face. And as an over protective mother, I always panic.
So I’m sure you can imagine the absolute fear I felt when I was transferring planes in Texas on Sunday after BlogHer and I turned my phone on – my text messages started rolling in backwards (thanks a lot for that, Verizon Wireless). The first text I saw? “F**king awesome day, we’re at the ER and they’re holding him down.”
That was from my husband.
I am not kidding when I felt like it was hard to breathe, because I had absolutely NO idea what happened – and my phone kept going off like crazy between Tweets catching up, emails, missed calls and text messages.
I finally got my husband on the phone and I was in a state of full panic. He was back at home with the Man, and he was still pretty upset and panicked himself. They had spent the morning at the local splashpad with friends of ours (how can I ever thank you for helping out with this situation, Dave and Michelle?) and the Man had to use the potty. So, off they went. Paul took him to the closest restroom and whoever designed it needs to be beat with a broken broom handle. The tile floor is slick inside, and it gets worse when it’s wet. Add a soaking wet toddler to the mix, and that spells out disaster.
Well…after using the toilet, Paul was helping him get his wet bathing suit back up and the Man slipped, heading face first into the urinal (of all places. really.) – it caused a gash from above his eyebrow down to his eyelid. Apparently as the minutes went by, the gash started to open more and more, so after getting some gauze from a police officer who was close by, Paul and Dave went off to Centra Care (a walk in clinic) only to find that they do not do stitches on the face.
So off to the E.R. they went. Where, from what I am told, the Man was put into a baby sling of sorts to try and hold him down as obviously no one, much less a toddler, wants a needle sewing their head back together.
The doctor told my husband that there wouldn’t be a scar, but I’m curious if the eyebrow hair will grow back correctly. Maybe he’ll end up looking a bit like Luke Perry?
My husband feels so incredibly guilty about the situation and is still beating himself up over it. He apparently also told our son that Mommy was never going on vacation without them again Bwahaha yeah, right.
So for a few more days, he’s sporting some character bandages on his head, until his stitches come out on Monday. It brings him a little more attention, though. Last night at Target, the bakery ladies felt so bad for him that they made his night by giving him an extra special treat.
Last night as I was putting the Man to bed, he started whining, “I want my Madison. Where is she? I want to see my Madison!!”
I felt so incredibly bad for him as tears started rolling down his pudgy cheeks. He doesn’t understand that his sister spends the summer with her Dad, not with him. He simply asked, “I can see Madison tomorrow then?” Sigh.
The past few nights when leaving daycare, he has bolted down the hall to the after school care room (where she usually is), jumped into the room and yelled, “HI MADISON! I AM HERE!!!!”
The look of disappointment on his face when the teacher tells him his sister isn’t there is almost heartbreaking.
Poor kiddo. I wish I could get him to understand that she will be back soon. But he misses her so, so much.
We do, too. Hurry up, end of summer!