When it rains it pours, and in my world there’s a tropical storm overhead.

Well, nothing truly that catastropic, just a LOT going on in a lot of directions.

Putting together a major special report, preparing to sing in front of a crowd of 100,000, and getting ready to host family members for Thanksgiving,  while keeping up with the daily chores, my husband’s busy travel schedule, daily pre-school runs, and 4 newscasts-per-day, should be plenty to keep me busy.

 Sunday it got even wilder.

We were having such a NICE weekend.  Visiting old friends in Champaign-Urbana Saturday, and enjoying a lazy Sunday at home, Ian cooking up a storm in the kitchen and the kids playing, for the most part, happily.

   Then came the scream.

2-year-old Clara had fallen from a chair and hit the back of her head. “Is that blood?” Ian asked. Yes. And soon it was everywhere. I took a look at the gash and realized we would not be enjoying that meal any time soon. We were heading to the ER.

     After we finally FOUND the nearest ER (in spite of our near-panic and only with the help of some really cool firefighters - which is a whole other story) Clara declared that she was “all better now” in spite of her blood-soaked sweater and hair.  After a about an hour-and-a-half in a very white room, our little one wound up with 4 Frankenstein-like staples in the back of her head.  As she tells the story, “I put my head on a pillow. Doctor fix the owie. I dintt LIKE it!”

     Ian and I liked it even less. So hard to see your child hurting.  It sure did make me grateful though, for the very sweet doctor and nurse, the firefighters who helped point us to the hospital,  for insurance, and for how darned fast kids bounce back.

    Little Frankenstein is back to her normal, hilarious self. 

I’m trying not to wonder… what’s next?

Trish