While Jennie is in San Francisco, I (Mike) am taking over blog duties. Last night was the first night with just us two guys. Aunt Sherly picked him up at daycare and he was in a good mood when she got there. She brought him to me at work and other than a nasty diaper rash, things were fine all night. Since he was up at 6 a.m. with us for the ride to the airport, he konked out pretty quickly at nine. 20 minutes, which is probably a record.
This morning was different. 15 minutes after I got to work, my cell phone started ringing. It was daycare, saying Donovan had fallen and got a cut above his eye that should be looked at. It was still bleeding. I could hear him crying in the background when I talked to them.
So I dropped everything and told my supervisor that I had to go and of course he was cool with it. Somehow I managed to get through to the doctor's office who said to bring him in. (Luckily it wasn't going to be a full day in the emergency room.) When I got to daycare, one of his teachers was holding him and giving him ice. He saw me and reached out his hands. If he had been crying, he stopped. He was pretty mellow the whole way to the doctor's office too, so I didn't feel as frantic.
We got in pretty quickly. One of the nurses told me that her son used to cut the same spot on his forehead all the time when he was that age. This is what I have to look forward to? You mean this is going to keep happening? Where's that ivory tower? I need to lock him in it so he'll never ever be hurt or unhappy again.
Nothing serious. He didn't need stitches. She just put some ointment and a teeny tiny bandage on it. It was amazing how well behaved he was. There was only a minimum of fussing while she cleaned him up. This is what he looked like later in the afternoon.
Despite all that, I wasn't going to let him leave my jurisdiction for the rest of the day. We decided to celebrate having the day off together by having an early lunch at Uncle Sam's, where we both missed Mom and felt funny eating without her. The only trouble came when it was time to get back in the car. He did not want to get in the car seat and I can't for the life of me figure out why. I think he's done this a few times before, but still there is no pattern. On the third try, he stopped doing the bucking bronco shtick because I used my trick that works when he wants to roll off the changing table: I started reciting The Fire Engine Book.
Donovan had a long nap this afternoon, which might explain how bedtime went tonight. It was, as Aunt Sherly would say, like a date with Ike Turner. He drank two and a half bottles, kicked me in the face, threw one bottle at me and flailed all over the bed. Two hours later, he was finally asleep, which is where I'm headed after I hit send.
Tomorrow, Grammy and Gramps Shanley are watching him for a few hours while I'm at work. They'll be relieved by my friend Brendan in the afternoon.