Sunday Gratitude & Recycling #NaBloPoMo

Today, I’d like to express my gratitude for my husband. I know, I know, I gripe about him being a pain in the butt…but he really is amazing sometimes. Yesterday, while I was at the Cub Scout BALOO training, he spent all day watching the boys, and he did an awesome job – he remembered to give Connor his 4 kinds of medication, and didn’t stress out AT ALL all day (believe me – that’s a feat in and of itself with our 2 boys!). Then, when I got home, he asked if I wanted to jump into a hot shower so I could warm up – he was just AWESOME.

To help the environment today, I’m going to organize some bins in our basement for recycling. I’m not talking just your typical plastic, can, paper bins…I’m talking glass, paperboard…the works. I know it will be some work in the beginning (I’m also posting a list of what we can recycle next to our trash so we can check before tossing), but it will be worth it in the long run, and will minimize the amount of trash we personally put into incinerators and landfills.

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2 Questions I Would Love to Have the Answers to…

#1 – Why is it that so many men never develop the “accident-anticipation” portion of their brains?

#2 – What on earth made my husband think our 6-year-old could keep a secret?

Last night, while horsing around with his father and younger brother, my 6-year-old stuntman smacked the back of his head on a box-shaped coffee table. To the point where he’s got a miniature of the cut he had on his chin…oh, around 6 months ago – you can see a non-gory pic here.

Any mom can tell you that facial and scalp wounds bleed a lot. You think you finally got the bleeding to stop…ooops, nope, false alarm…there’s still some more. It’s even worse if they happen to cut and smash their head at the same time – because then you get bleeding and swelling. Along with the thoughts that make every mom want to curl up into a ball…does he have a concussion, does he need stitches, should we go to the ER, is his brain swelling?

After determining that he didn’t have the symptoms of any serious head injury (along with the fact that Connor is a hopeless boo-boo-picker, and picked the glue stitches off his chin within an hour of getting them), we decided against the trip to the ER, and instead rounded up the kids and went to CVS in search of some liquid bandage and popsicles – the go-to-boo-boo-maker-betterer. If you’ve never used it (liquid bandages, that is – if you’ve never tried popsicles, you’ve led a sadly sheltered existence), this stuff is seriously awesome – it will keep dirt and germs out of a small wound, and help keep one that is bound to get re-boo-boo-ed from opening up again. (Connor has issues with not climbing under things he’s going to smack his head on.)

No popsicles at CVS, so we head over to Stop and Shop across the street. While hubby and Connor are in the store, I decide to read the box of liquid bandage. Hubby had chosen the spray variety, thinking an applicator would aggrivate Connor’s boo-boo and basically make him flip the fuck out. Well, this spray variety was aerosol. Aerosol people! Just the thought of using an aerosol spray designed to simulate skin on the back of Connor’s head (which, by the way, is covered with hair!) made me think of that time when I was a kid that I blew a huge bubble-gum bubble and got it all over my head. Basically, hell-to-the-no.

Upon their return to the truck, I inform hubby that we will be going back to CVS and exchanging the spray for one with an applicator. When I describe the mess the spray will make, he stops arguing with me.

When hubby goes into the store, Connor says…”Mama, can I tell you a secret?”

I’m thinking, oh shit – secrets are never good!

I say, “Of course you can.”

Connor: “Not until we’re in my bedroom upstairs.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Connor: “Yes, in my bedroom upstairs.”

Me: “Okay”

We listen to music for a few minutes, and Connor decides to say “We didn’t get Hot Wheels Mama”, with a big grin on his face.

Ah-ha! The plot thickens…

So, I decide to feel around in the bag that has the popsicles, and find exactly what I expect to…a brand new Hot Wheels car.

Just a side note – for those of you who aren’t aware, Connor seems to think every day is a day for a present. This is in large part due to the fact that Daddy is constantly bringing home toys to “put away” for Christmas, but doesn’t put them away fast enough. Connor and I have many “talks” whenever we are at a store that has toys and he asks for one.

I pull the Hot Wheels out of the bag and hold it up, asking, “Isn’t this a Hot Wheels car?”

He says “Yes Mama, but please don’t put Daddy in trouble!”

To which I nearly pee myself trying not to “AWWWW!” out loud giggling like a silly little girl, and reply, “Don’t worry, that’s your Boo-Boo-Hot-Wheels, Daddy isn’t in trouble.”

I love that kid more and more every day.

P.S. The best way to tell if you need to go to the ER is if your child is talking or walking funny. The dilation of their pupils won’t be affected by a smack on the head until too long afterwards.

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