While I'm well aware there's a desperate need for the traditional year-in-review as well as a new-year's-resolution posts, I first must detail the last three days of the year that was, as they kind of kicked me in the chin and left a pretty lousy taste in my mouth. December was not good to me.
We can even go back an extra week or two and I'll admit that I did, in fact, earn that B in medical nutrition I. The good news is that I get to prove myself a better student in medical nutrition II in the upcoming semester. The moment I exited my last final, I began dreading spring. Three-plus weeks later...still dreading.
Then there's the whole transmission ordeal. Blech. Still have an icky feeling when I think about that. I'm pretty upset that Hot Red Speed would betray me.
Fast forward to last week. Ike was signed up for a basketball camp for the week, but Monday he woke to quite a stomach bug (Mr. X was on duty so I circumvented clean up this time). By the time I got the kids on Wednesday, they were all well and fine...until that night. Princess Pearl quickly turned from a singing, dancing, playing darling to a sickly little sweetheart. A long night for both of us (though she's a very conscientious and considerate sick girl, we did have one late night sheet change) led to a slow start on Thursday, but back to mostly normal by the afternoon.
And because Thursday was a gold star day in terms of weather (60+ degrees!), our impromptu hang-out with Crazy Neighbor Teri and her son led me to drive the kids outside, even under the cover of night. Ike and Em, along with Teri's son Alex headed outdoors for merriment and mischief around 7:30 pm. By 7:45, the boys sped into the house in states of panic.
Em hit a pole.
Wha...? They had an entire playground at their disposal. And she found a pole.
I ran toward the schoolyard (just across the street from Teri's house) and Em was trudging her way toward me, blood running down her face. "I'm okay, I'm okay," she repeated. I got her into the house to survey the damage. Big split on her forehead. Blood at her lip (she'd bitten through!) but all teeth intact. My own forehead scar (from a putting-the-kids-to-bed incident -- grace runs in the family, no?) that went un-stitched was enough of a reason to get her head patched. I quickly headed to the ER with Em.
Because KU Med is the hub for all of my medical needs, Hot Red Speed took us there with nary a thought. After an hour in the waiting room, I remembered the short ER wait I enjoyed after my stroke at Shawnee Mission Medical Center. I made a call, learned there were only three folks in line (as opposed to the full room at KU -- some of whom had been waiting as long as five hours. We picked up and left for the other ER.
Still another two or three hours between all of the paperwork, waiting, anesthetics, waiting, sewing and discharge, we finally made it home around 12:30. (While I am positive Em is my biological child, she does not share in my enthusiasm for public self-deprecation and would not allow for photographs to be taken at any point. Sigh.)
The following night was New Year's Eve. We had toyed with attending a fairly large kid-friendly party held at Karen's place, but Em dreaded hashing and rehashing the story of her facial adornments, so we kept it simple and headed to Mark's house for dinner, Apples to Apples and a sparkling cider midnight toast.
If you're keeping count, this is Night Three of Jennifer-up-past-her-bedtime.
Let's go for four, huh?
Next night. Another tummy ache. Mine.
So I'm pleased to leave December behind, along with 2010. I'm tired.