It all happened so fast, which isn't it how it always happens? And it happened on a trampoline, which would make sense, all things considered. Take an outdoor trampoline, add a two-year old, three-year old and seven-year old, make sure they're all boys, and then throw in some balls to have to jump over for good measure.
And yet, none of that caused the nose bleed. The actual incident happened when Captain tried to jump into a dogpile with Maverick on the bottom and Jonah on top. And it only happened when Captain's nose came into contact with Jonah's head.
There were tears and crying...and then...we all went back to jumping. All was well with the world. It wasn't until I saw Nicole drive up, hear Captain scream "Uncle Cole!!!!" and bound up the cul-de-sac that we noticed it. Nicole grabbing Captain to give him a big hug and then yell at me "why is his nose bleeding?!"
And with that, the documentation of Captain's 1st (but sure not to be last) bloody nose.
You've got to be kidding me. For five years I've lamented over the crappy renters carpet in our house. So when my dad was over and I was complaining about it, he simply asked me why I didn't rip it up.
I gave him my all knowing look of well of course I already thought of THAT and then showed him the small area where I had pulled up the carpet only to reveal raw wood that must have been sub-floor.
It was his turn to give me a look. "That's not sub-floor Erin, that's just the tackboard for the carpet. You didn't pull back enough." So he did. And we found.......the original hardwood floor.
Holy shit, it was the best birthday present ever.
He tried to tell me before he left for me not to get too excited, and have someone help me rip it up. I nodded.
Then he left.
Then I made a mad dash for the tools and sat my ass on the floor while Captain was next door playing and went to work.
So here's what I know now:
*Take the time to change out of your maxi dress before you start ripping up wood floors.
*Crow bars are these magic wands of wonder when it comes to ripping up carpets: my neighbor came over and showed me how to pull the carpet up in one fell swoop. It maybe took 3 minutes to pull up the entire hallway.
*Obviously, the above is easier when you have a room with no furniture. Furniture is your bitch in this.
*It took me a couple of tries, but the crow bar is also a magic wand when it comes to the tack board and all the nails holding down the tack board.
*The staples are the worst part. I had calluses and my lower back was sore for two days wrenching all the staples out of the floor. What I have found is easier is to take a flathead screwdriver and hammer your flathead under the staple to pop it - then you can take pliers and wrench them out.
So here we are. The hallway is done, and the master bedroom is 1/2 way down. The hallway definitely needs to be refinished (the entire house could use a sand and stain), I need new baseboards since there is now a gap that the carpet covered, and you can tell where they added onto our master bedroom decades ago, because there is sub-floor instead of hardwood. I think the office is going to be jacked up completely, but I have a feel Captain's room is going to be 100% wood.
Next step is to finish the bedroom and Captain's room, and tackle the weirdness (maybe linoleum?) that is in the office before I can get a guy in here to quote me on baseboards and refinishing...of the hardwood floors I have had ALL ALONG
A three-day trip to the desert with my mom and Captain. Good (but expensive!) food, warm nights and cool evenings. Inspiration for a no-grass backyard, and ideas of what our house might have ended up looking like if we had kept the Spanish tile roof.
Donkey terra cotta planets? Ummm...yes
I must remember - if I tell my mom that Nate, myself, or Captain is even remotely interested in a character, movie, etc., there will be an onslaught brought upon us; exhibit A: me telling my mom that Captain thinks Captain America and super heroes are cool:
Captain LOVED it
Had to sit on the bench Greta Garbo would relax on and watch the stars
Captain and Nana; or, Nana and her Venetian Gondola driver
The good news in all of this is that we caught it extremely early and I now know what to do.
The bad news is that it happened during the time when Nate was gone, so for two days leading up to the professional treatment, my night routine was washing all pillows and sheets, boiling all brushes, and making Captain sit on a towel on the couch, which subsequently got washed.
And getting lice in general is just crap news.
So here's the rub if lice come a-calling:
1. DONT get RID. It's chemicals and it doesn't work
2. DO get the enzyme treatment. We used OC Hair Police but you can find another brand online. It's all the same enzyme.
3. DO use the enzyme treatment daily and use a nit comb. The do it yourself treatment recommendation we got was 13 days.
I immediately went and got my head checked (I had it), bought the enzyme, and gave Captain and myself a treatment every night for two nights. We had an appointment that Friday to get it professionally checked out, but at $98 per person, I wanted to give it a go myself and see how much I could do. Besides, there is no way in Hell I could just hangout for two days knowing we had eggs in our hair.
We went to OC Hair Police who were awesome and walking distance from our house (never knew!) - the enzyme treatment was so effective Captain was 100% clear and I only had two eggs so she combed us both out, and we were solid - no need for a treatment, and that was only $25 per person.
I never had any experience with lice - it's gross, it makes your head itch when you think about it, and it's daunting. But, that's having a kid - and now we know the steps.
Side note - poor Nate was in Tahiti when we found out, and since I couldn't tell him how to check himself in Tahiti, he had to shave his head.
I had a backyard dance party. Because, really, all I wanted to do was dance. And really, where can you dance and really have a good time with just the people you want to dance with, dancing to only the music you want to listen to?
That's right. Your backyard.
I don't know if I have any big ephiphany's about turning 35 - except for that in 15 years I'll be 50. And when I say, "Wow, that was like 20 years ago", it actually makes sense because 20 years ago I was...15. EEK.
So maybe there's some mortality in 35 - maybe? That sounds selfish. I'm happy where I am; more than happy, I'm proud. I have a great husband, an amazing little man, a house I love, a job I love, and I have ideas of doing more that I'm actually putting into action. Sure, I have shit days, and all those things I mentioned above have their bad moments...
The true acceptance of knowing things don't always work out. That's what I have down pretty well at 35. Things don't always work out - dates end with a sick kid, vacation's get cancelled, work trips go longer than expected, and I am okay when a day (or five) go with me screwing up on exercise, more than two glasses of wine, and going over my carb intake.
So when life gives you shit...I'll choose to dance.
The first strawberry was ready for eating, which was a huge celebration and cause for Captain to let the rest of the cul-de-sac kids know about it. Dividing a small home grown strawberry into seven portions was another sort of celebration, causing an over tired toddler to pass out on top of the couch. Not sure exactly what his brain was going through when he decided that would be a good spot, but Hell, he slept for three blissful hours.
A late Sunday afternoon spent at Huntington Beach Central Park after his nap consisted of bike riding, a pit stop for coffee and milk, and endless arguments over the fact that the ducks did NOT think he was a duck, no matter how much he quacked at them and followed them around.