Yes, today was Sunday, but there wasn't much resting going on. I can actually sum up the whole day with this one sentence: Isabel woke up looking just fine but resembled a prize-fighter when she went to bed tonight.
It started with a bang at church this morning. I was playing for the service, so while I was getting ready with the band, I heard Izzy (from another part of the church, mind you) begin to scream. And this wasn't any old scream -- it was one of those horrible, you-kn0w-something's-really-wrong kind of screams. So I dropped everything I was doing and ran out to the lobby where she was. There, already scooped up in Josh's arms, was Izzy with a mouth full of blood.
Apparently, she had tried to climb up onto a stool but had fallen backwards off of it and whacked her head on the hard floor. She had a pretty good knot from that, but what caused most of the damage was the fact that she somehow slammed her face into the seat of the stool on the way down.
Her "mouth-meets-wood" incident equaled several cuts inside her mouth, a loose tooth, and a frenulum that's ripped right off of her gum. (I only know the word "frenulum" because Jack did something similar when he was that age and, therefore, educated me on that little piece of tissue that connects your lips to your gums.) If you've seen the amount of blood that erupts when that happens, you can understand how horrific it seemed.
Thankfully, the bloody volcano that was her mouth settled down after a few minutes, and we went about the morning (which was good because I was just about to go on stage when I first heard the screams).
Naptime went well -- no bumps, no bruises, no bleeding. Hooray for me.
Then it was back to church and on to a different kind of parental moment I'd love to forget. While Josh was in class, I had a meeting there that involved no less than 20 representatives from our home study adoption agency and the Department of Human Resources (remember them?). The meeting was unrelated to our adoption, but as I'm sure you can imagine, I still felt like I should mind my Ps and Qs and showcase the best of my parenting skills.
The kids and I had about an hour between the meeting and when the service started, so I whipped out the dinner Josh had packed for them, and we headed outside for a picnic by the water. When they were finished eating, we gathered up all the trash, and I walked all of 10 feet to the door so I could throw the bag away in the trash can that was just inside the building.
Unfortunately, nobody told me that as soon as the door shuts behind you, you're officially locked inside. Like forever.
I was stunned. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't get back out the way I had come in (Is anyone else confused as to why the door locks you in rather than out?), but I couldn't run around to another door because I wouldn't be able to see the kids. Or the water. Or the kids in the water.
It was right about this time that Jack realized I couldn't get back out, so he plastered his chubby hands and face against the glass door and began crying, "Mommy!! Mom-meeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Yes Jack, please do your best to alert DHR to the fact that I have now locked myself in a church building while leaving my three young children to fend for themselves outdoors.
Thankfully, I was finally able to get Abby's attention and use some very creative sign language to tell her to come open the door from the outside. The small crowd that had gathered around me inside dispersed, and I realized in painful humility how not perfect I am in my mothering.
I had a wonderful time of learning and worship during the service, and Izzy's loose tooth and Jack's face smeared across the window were almost distant memories in my mind by the time we went to pick the kids up from the nursery. As I walked toward Isabel's room, her teacher had that look on her face. When I reached the door, she said, "I'm so sorry, she took a little spill on the playground and bumped her nose."
Now gracious knows, if anyone understands that accidents happen, it's certainly us. We've definitely had our fair share of boo-boos (have I mentioned that Izzy had temporarily rearranged parts of her face earlier in the day?). I told her teacher it was no big deal and looked down to see our littlest with not only a fat lip, but with small cuts all over her nose and a bloody knee.
I should have left well-enough alone. I should have taken her hand and walked her slowly and carefully to the car. But no, I reached down to pick her up, and she turned toward me just as I reached toward her, and I jammed my fingernail right into what I first thought was her eyeball. Thankfully, it was into the soft area just below the eye, but it still involved crying. And a little cut. And a tad of blood.
Clearly not my finest hour as a mommy. Or finest day, for that matter.
But enough about our poor, injured daughter. As much as I have not enjoyed today, I loved the rest of the weekend. As I mentioned earlier, my parents treated Josh and me to a night away for our ninth anniversary. We didn't have any preconceived ideas of what plans had been made for us, so we were ecstatic when we learned that after the wedding we were attending that night, we had reservations at The Renaissance at Ross Bridge as well as breakfast the next morning at the restaurant in the hotel.
And let me tell you, I'm pretty sure I ate my weight in custom-order omelets and croissant french toast that morning. I don't miss a meal very often, but I couldn't even think about lunch and could barely eat for dinner that night. It was delish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And because I'm perfectly incapable of doing a blog post that doesn't contain pictures, here are a few of my favorites from the rehearsal dinner I shot on Thursday night. Since the couple hasn't seen the photos yet, I'll just give you a tiny sneak peek of the two of them as they watched a slideshow her mom had put together and then it's on to other things.
The constant action at the pool table gave me some fun shots...
...but I also took the liberty of posing some of them using one of the drummers that used to play with us and his new wife (as of two weeks ago).
Now I'm going to head upstairs and give Isabel one last kiss on her poor, beat-up face before I go to bed.