Crazy Noah

Mark and I decided Thursday to paint the 3 upstairs bedrooms over the weekend. So we painted Thursday night, all day Friday, and all day Saturday. The bedrooms look great, but the rest of the upstairs is insane. Everything that was in the bedrooms is in the loft or one of the bathrooms. Saturday night after Mark got the trim painted, I shampooed the carpets in the bedrooms (YUCK!) and they are ready to move back into. Savanna and Zack get to go upstairs tonight, and they are excited about their new room. Abram and Jake will be in a holding pattern until the basement is finished and they can move in down there. It's moving right along, though.

After our busy weekend, I was looking forward to resting Sunday. We went to church, and I was ready for my usual Sunday routine of feeding everyone lunch and then crashing on the couch for a couple of hours. Well, I got lunch ready, and then Noah walks into the kitchen with blood all over his hand, and his hand on the back of his head. He said, "Oh, crud. My head is bleeding." No tears, no panic. But his head was bleeding. Aubrey had been lying on her back and bouncing Noah on her feet up in the air. When she pushed him back, she miscalculated how close she was to the corner of the wall, and Noah's head split right open. So I put Noah in the car and headed to the urgent care.

The doctor there kept laughing at Noah and his never-ending questions, and his lack of hysteria over his injury. "How old are you? How high can this bed go? Do I get a treat? Are you going to give me a shot? What is that for? Are you going to look at my eardrum? Will you shave my head?" and so on. The doctor asked Noah how he had hurt his head. Noah calmly replied, "Playing." The doctor decided on stitches rather than glue or staples, put the topical anesthetic on, and left us for a half hour to let it work. Boy, has that stuff come a long way! They didn't even need to give Noah a shot. The doctor took out a pointed instrument and touched Noah's head to test for numbness. "Can you feel that, Noah?" "Yeah." "Does it feel sharp, Noah?" "No, it just feels sticky."

And then the sutures began, and Noah laid perfectly still on his tummy while the doctor stitched. Good as new. He still wants me to shave his head, though. Nobody can see the stitches right now.