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Last Saturday we were going to a party. We were excited and rushing around the house getting all cute and ready to go. Molly and I were upstairs; I was changing outfits deciding what to wear, while she explored the fascinating contents of my closet. Later, I couldn't help but wonder - If only I had decided not to take my boots off so I wasn't in my sock feet. If only George would have carried her downstairs instead of me. If only I had walked a little bit more slowly.
If only I wouldn't have slipped and fallen down the stairs with Molly.
Yikes. My foot shot out from under me, and down we went. I immediately wrapped my body around Molly to shield her from the impact, but wasn't sure whether she hit her head when we fell. As soon as we got to the bottom (13 stairs later), George was there, frantically examining us. We checked her head, again and again. We put frozen corn on there, just in case. I nursed her, we sang, we cuddled, we inspected. After 10 or 15 minutes, she had calmed down, but she was still crying. If she were just frightened, by then she would be playing happily. But we couldn't find any lumps on her head at all.
And then it occured to us. She has a whole body below her head. Perhaps her pain is coming from somewhere else. We stripped her down, did a full body check but everything looked ok. Then I stood her up to see if she could maintain her balance, and she wouldn't bear weight on her left leg. Eureka.
We consulted the nurse, and were told that a visit to the ER was definitely in order. So, off to Children's Hospital we went. 2 hours and much bravery and trooperhood later, Molly was diagnosed with a buckle fracture on her lower tibia and fibula. They fitted her in a splint and sent us on our way.
Molly's doing great. She can't stand or cruise, but, adaptable as always, she's crawling all around and is in great spirits. She's waking alot at night, presumably due to pain that she is too busy to notice during the day. Her cast should be off within 2-3 weeks.
It goes without saying that I feel awful about the whole thing. Of course it was an accident, but still. if you fell down the stairs with your baby and she broke her leg you'd feel bad too.
On the bright side (if there is a bright side to a tumble down the stairs) there is something to be said for facing your worst fear and living to tell. As any parent in a home with stairs your darker side envisions the fall. In your imaginings there is blood, major trauma, the works. But, then it happens and you survive. A few hours later you're sitting on the couch with a bowl of comfort ice cream trying to make sense of it all, while your sweet baby sleeps upstairs.
Molly has a baby! Doll that is. She is crazy for this doll. I handed it to her to keep her entertained while I looked around at the Goodwill for "just another minute, sweetie". Little did I know it would elicit such a strong reaction. Complete strangers were commenting on how much she liked her doll.
So, doll (no name yet) came home with us. Molly will hold her and hug her and then scream and piledrive her into the ground (affectionately of course).
Let me just say, if I had known that Molly would respond to a baby doll in this way I would have given a little more thought to it, rather than absentmindedly handing her the first naked and bald one I came upon. But I'm sure a cute outfit will do wonders.
Molly loves walking with her radio flyer wagon, stopping frequently to investigate and taste the flower petals and leaves on the ground. She can walk a few short blocks now with no problem. Some days Molly and I will walk down the block to meet Daddy as he gets off the bus from work. Here they are rounding the bend on our way back home from just such an outing.
Molly and Papa C share a moment.
A few weeks back Molly and I visited the zoo with Stephenie, one of Molly's fave aunties. We had a big exhausting day checking out the animals (Molly's favorite animal was the american toddler) and zooming around zoomazium. Molly went wild banging on the drums, climbing through the tunnel, chasing after the other kids, and subsequently fell asleep about 12 seconds into the car ride home.
Here is Stephenie holding a sleeping Molly after carrying her into the house. Since she seems to be the only person who can carry Molly in from the car without waking her, we are hoping she will move in with us.
Molly and I took "Beginner Tots" swimming lessons together last month. Here she is in her suit (might I add, this is not the first time I've wished that her clothes came in my size). There was much splashing and blowing bubble,s and great fun was had by all.
Last weekend Molly's uncle Jim, aunt Marcia and cousins Fiona and Amelia came over for dinner. It was great to see them, and Molly was the life of the party as usual.
We don't often get a chance to hang out with tweens and teens, so spending time with the Rowes gives us a rare opportunity to catch a glimpse into our future -- imagine Molly with an iPod dripping out of her ears! (of course by the time she's 14, MP3 players will surely have gone the way of 8-tracks).
I myself was what you might call a "spirited" teen. In many a heated moment, my own mother wished upon me a child like myself, like some sort of curse or perhaps cosmic revenge. If her wish comes true, I'll just say we've got some interesting times ahead.
Last week we went to the Seattle Children's Museum. In fact, we liked it so much we went twice, on Wednesday and again on Saturday with Daddy and Molly's bff Addie and her parents Mike and Laura. Molly loved the 0-3 play area called Discovery Bay. She splashed in some water, fearlessly climbed the padded climbing area and even crawled out of the belly of a whale. In short, she rocked the place.
A few weeks back, Molly got her first haircut. I couldn't stand her little bangs hanging in her eyes for a second more, and so out came the scissors.
What on earth was I thinking? Holding scissors next to the eyes of a flailing child? Well, suffice it to say that trimming her locks was a bit trickier than I had bargained for. The next day we went to a professional kid stylist to fix my hack job.
This is how Molly fell asleep the other night. 'Nuff said.
Lately Molly will hold an object between her teeth (for instance a lemon, her wooden hippopatomus clacking toy, a baby food jar lid, her bootie) and zoom around the house with it hanging out of her mouth. Reminds me of a puppy with a chew toy.
Molly is at such a fun age right now. (and SO OLD - 11 months in a few days). Of course every age has been fun along the way, and of course at every new stage we look back and think "she seemed fun before, but this, now this is really fun."
Anyhow, right now Molly is reaching new levels of, well, everything. She's crawling and cruising around the house, exploring and playing back and forth games and chasing and laughing and hiding. For the Campbells, life is one big gas.
She is also working hard on her vocabulary. When I imagined her first words they were obvious. In my mind's eye she would stop in mid-babble and say "mother, more sweet potatoes please". Of course, it's not quite like that. Slowly mamamamamama becomes mama. I wasn't sure whether or not to count it as a word until yesterday morning. George got up with her so I could sleep in (bless him), and I could hear them playing in the kitchen. Molly was chatting away, "dadadadadada". When she is with me it's a steady stream of "mamamamamama" (with an occasional "MAMA!" for emphasis). 11 months old and she knows our names - genius.
