Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving resembled Christmas, but we enjoyed all of the usual Thanksgiving food.  Mimi brought along a craft for each of the little girls (and boys too if they were interested).  Only Mimi would have 6 spare trees tucked away in storage and crafty decorations for them.  The girls loved decorating them and took their jobs very seriously. 

The boys didn't care about the trees nearly as much and took all they could stomach before they escaped and returned to domino demolition.   (stack the dominoes, watch them crash)

Mimi already has majority of her house decorated for Christmas, and Mickey's Clock Shop is by far the favorite.  Tate busted his lip a couple of weeks ago when stepped right off of the piano bench and fell on his suitcase.  This time there were no injuries.

Hanging out in "their room".  Bonnie and I don't have rooms, but Cayla and Tate sure do.  They love their bunk beds and surprisingly there have been no injuries. 

INJURY

After such a nice time in El Campo we headed home on Saturday.  Sunday all was going well.  Chris headed to the Texans game with a friend and the kids and I were hanging out at home.  Not a whole lot was on our agenda other than church.  Tate wanted some bacon, and Cayla didn't think bacon sounded bad either.  This would have been her second him to try bacon and last time she actually liked it.  I'm frying up some bacon and Tate is eating it as pieces cool.  I am standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his next piece of bacon ready.  Tate is on the couch squatting like a frog.  About that time he leaps head first into the concrete floor. His head hit the floor with a thud and then he just laid there - eyes open but not moving.  After a few seconds (which felt like 5 minutes) he starts kicking both legs and while he looked like he was crying there is no sound.  Then came the sound.  Sometimes I wonder if he's human - he gets bumps, scrapes, and bruises but rarely claims to be "hurt".  This head dive (or what he refers to as "I jumped on my head") brought definite tears.  I pick him up, check him out, and see no visible damage.  He's very quiet and just laying in my lap.  I sit him up and he just lays back down on the couch.  I grab my paramedic neighbor and call Chris and we all agree that he probably should be taken to the ER.  His behavior is odd - for once he's a lap child. 

We head to the doctor where Tate sits quietly on my lap.  They say his eyes, ears, and nose all look good.  He's offered cookies, but doesn't accept.  Who is this kid?  They start the paper work for a CT Scan, but agree that if he returns to his normal self in 30 minutes they probably will not do one.  Sure enough right about the 30 minute mark he snaps out of it.  He's crawling all over me, trying to pull gloves off the wall, climbs on the bed, jumps (but not off - and the Dr. jokes about how soon it will be beofore we have to come back), asks for the cookies, wants some chocolate milk, opens drawers, opens the door, wants to go "bye bye", says he needs to go to the bathroom... at this point the doctor is ready to send him home. 

We get home and Tate sees Kyler outside... they play in the dirt.

Then they move to the sandbox...  There are no signs of any aches or pains.

We continued to watch him, woke him frequently from his nap, he never vomitted, and he played hard the rest of the day.  All in a days work. 

Me: Tate, did you write on that wall?

Tate: Nooo....

Me: Tate, who wrote on that wall?

Tate: My "Pem" wrote on da wall.

Me: Tate, WE DO NOT WRITE ON THE WALL!

Tate:  I not write on da wall.

Me: TATE, YOUR PEN CANNOT WRITE ON THE WALL!

Tate: MY PEM did...

Me: TATE, YOU AND YOUR PEN DO NOT WRITE ON THE WALL!

Tate: : "Mime Did"

Me:  Tate, Okay, Tell your pen to not write on the wall.

Tate:  OKAY!

Why do I waste my time...