In the last 48 hours, that same daughter decided to take a ride on her bike sans helmet and ended up in the E.R. with a concussion, whiplash and a whole lot of bruises and road rash. Then shortly after getting her home and settled, her brother stepped on a toothpick she'd dropped on the carpet, embedding it straight into his foot a good couple of inches before it snapped off. Another trip to Urgent Care, three people holding him down, and some minor surgery, and he's home convalescing.
And my neighbors - oh, God love my neighbors. One of them took David so I could rush Anna to the E.R. Another - who happens to be a nurse who formerly worked in a podiatrist's office - came over in her jammies last night to give me an expert opinion on David's foot. And a third showed up at my door today with this:
It takes a village, because I am a mess.
And now the kids are gone to Daddy's house, and I am kicking back with a well-deserved drink in my hand watching Season 3 of Once Upon a Time so I can get my Hook on.
What a week. What a month. What a mush my brain is right now, and that's without taking a sip of my drink yet.
I am beyond tired. It's down to a cellular level, leaching through my DNA. You'll have to excuse me from blogging today, because the brain ain't up to it.
I'll catch you tomorrow, after some adult chocolate milk, a night with a flirtatious pirate, and a whole lotta sleep.