Oh, MAN.

Oh, we were smug. Oh how we preened. We never dropped her. She never rolled off the bed, off the couch. She never fell out of the car or off of the changing table. We. Were. Perfect. And so was Ava.

Ava's still perfect, of course. But us? We had it coming, I suppose.

Behold:

Here, we have the edge of the patio.

Looks innocent enough. Right next to the soft, cool, springy grass, where Ava loves to trot around and twirl. And trip. Yeah. Note to us: Ava trips. A LOT. Usually when she trips, she catches herself with her hands, or if she doesn't, she at least lands somewhere soft. Like on the grass. But Friday night, she caught herself with her HEAD right on the corner of the PATIO. And like INSTANTLY, a big ghastly goose egg (ah yes, now I know where that name comes from...) erupted on her creamy little forehead. OMG. Triage consisted of "OH JESUS! INSIDE! RIGHT NOW! WHAT DO WE DO? ICE! COLD! WE NEED COLD! IS SHE BLEEDING? NO? OK GOOD ICE! BINKY! CALM HER DOWN! YOU OK? I'M OK! SHE OK? I THINK SO BUT SHE'S PISSED! CALL THE NURSE'S LINE! HELLO NURSE'S LINE? HERE'S WHAT HAPPENED: NO VOMITING. JUST A SCRAPE. ABOUT AN INCH IN DIAMETER. LEFT TEMPLE. OK OK OK NO PAIN MEDS YET. KEEP AN EYE ON HER FOR 2 HOURS. THEN WAKE HER UP. OK OK OK. OK. WE'LL CALL YOU IF ANYTHING HAPPENS. OK YES WE'RE FINE TOO THANKS."

And we were smug because we survived it. Poor boopy, but we were all OK.

And then, dammit, she freaking did it again this morning.

Here, we have the corner of the activity cube.

Yeah, it's not angled off because it's pretty. Oh no. They cut the corner off of that bad boy because THEY KNEW what was going to happen. And a triangular flat surface, while still no picnic, is much much easier to deal with on impact than a pointy corner. OMG.

So here is her poor little melon.


I KNOW. OMG.

Here's what we have learned.

1. ICE. Do not pass Go; do not collect $200. Get a washcloth, dunk it in cold water, wrap it around an ice cube. That will work.
   
2. She will not like to have anything on her head. Doesn't matter. Do it. She'll get over being mad faster than I'll get over seeing a big awful pulsating goose egg on her little head.
3. She will crap her pants IMMEDIATELY when this happens. Doesn't matter. Keep the ice going. It's why she wears a diaper.
   
4. She's OK, even though it looks awful.
5. Always keep Sesame Street or Curious George on the DVR. At least 1 episode. They calm her down and give her something to focus on that will take her attention off of having something cold on her head.
6. People will look at her head, and the bruises, and then look at me, and then look back at her and then back at me when we go out in public. If they've had a toddler, that look is filled with sympathy, as they probably have their own horror stories to tell. If they haven't had a toddler, that look is filled with judgment and speculation, and they can blow it out their asses.

I think that's it. Yikes. Gravity: not just a good idea, it's the law.

I can tell you how to get, how to get to Sesame Street.

We are not those parents who boycott television. We're just not. We will never be those parents, either (unless TV programming is completely taken over by the people who brought us Jersey Shore and even then there will be a movie in the Blu-Ray [yes we've gone to Blu-Ray and it is AWESOME] 24/7/365). We like to think that we're selective about what we watch when Ava's in the room (although some movies, like Animal House or Airplane! or Caddyshack seem to be always on somewhere and we inevitably watch them). With Ava, we have re-discovered Discovery, National Geographic, and Animal Planet. She likes watching them, and we like watching her when she watches them. So everybody wins.

Recently we procured a couple of Sesame Street DVDs--the classic stuff, like counting with Herry Monster and JohnJohn and Rubber Duckie and that one episode that was so early on that Oscar the Grouch was orange. Yeah. So Sesame is on every day (yeah, I know, duh). We DVR it (we are SLAVES to the DVR, see above IN RE: 24/7/365) and watch it with Ava every night during and after dinner.

She loves it. I'd forgotten how much fun Sesame Street is. I like that they still show the old stuff (Super Grover KILLS me) and they have new stuff (Abby Cadabby is so cute!) that we like quite a bit. They teach manners. They teach basic skills. They teach that cookies are good but so are vegetables and they have cool celebrity guest stars (Jason Mraz!).

Ava dances during the songs.



Yeah, that's some kind of cute. Oh and Auntie Beth? That's my favorite outfit on her--thanks for sending pretty clothes for our girl :).

Her other new thing is carrying her purse. I got it free from re-subscribing to Vogue (I have big plans for being able to read magazines someday...). It's too small for me but she carries it around like she's Carrie Bradshaw on the red carpet and it's a Birkin bag.


Such a little girlie-girl! Love it :). Someday, she and I will go shopping together and Nordstrom will proclaim a holiday and name it after us. Can't. Wait.

Perhaps The Answer Is More Obvious Than That

There have been times in the past 6 months where we proceeded with much fanfare and confidence in an entirely incorrect direction. Early on, we tried to stop hysterical, purple-faced crying with a binky and a 3AM car ride, under the auspices of "She's tired, and this will soothe her." The appropriate solution to such a situation was, in fact, feeding her.

And then we had a terrible issue with "How are we going to keep her from getting spit-up all over her clothes and causing a rash if we don't change her quickly enough?" Yeah. That's what bibs are for, genius.

The most recent example of the view of the trees being blocked by the forest is in the previous post regarding orange food. Ava did not sleep on two days when she ate orange food. Ava hates orange food! No more orange food! Hooray!



I'm reminded of a scene from one of my favorite movies:



Orange food is like the cans. Ava is the guy with the gun. And we're Navin Johnson.

Hey, Einstein, maybe she's teething. Maybe the reason her sleep is changing is that she's 6-1/2 months old and her freaking teeth are coming in. Maybe her little mouth is starting to hurt because underneath the surface of her little gums ARE TEETH.

Oof.

In a related story, Baby Tylenol is a marvelous solution, allowing her to sleep, which allows us to sleep. And since sleep begets sleep, she is now back in the habit of sleeping through a big chunk of night. And so are we.