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A Week In the Life of LPK

April 13, 2012

My charming little man



I forgot how this happened with Spike, too, but in the first few postpartum weeks, my migraines, which completely disappear during pregnancy, make up for all lost time.  I was fairly incapacitated, struggling to get by in a darkened room nursing Benjaroo off and on and trying to believe that LPK’s silence was a good thing.


He found my makeup (again) and got into my mascara (again).  The last time he did this he pretty much just blackened his entire face.  He has learned technique since then and we ended up with a more KISS-esque application.

He moved on from that to the Art of Drum Making.  Necessary supplies: everything metal and loud.  It had me writhing in pain, but at least he wasn’t damaging himself or anything else.


I was feeling great so we set out on some errands.  Reached our first stop before the store was opened.  I only realized this when the front doors wouldn’t open.  We trooped back to the car and I let LPK in.  Roo set up wailing so I put his seat back in and tried soothing him since it appeared we would be sitting cooped up for half an hour.  A horrible sound distracted my attention to the front seat.  Spike had climbed into the passenger seat, since I hadn’t actually strapped him in his seat yet, and was busy pressing the 6-cd-changer eject button in an effort to retrieve the coins he had pushed inside.  Guess what?  Nothing wanted to come out and a hideous noise was emanating from the system.

Did I mention this is a two-month-old car?  (Well, it’s used…but we’ve only had it for two-months…I told HH he should have let me drive the old car…).  We haven’t yet been able to retrieve the coin(s).  At least one cd slot is useable, though, so that’s something.

Also, the time between putting LPK in the car and him sticking coins in slots couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds.  I think I know the first rule of toddlers:  NEVER LET THEM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!


We spent it at home.  It was a potty training day so LPK was running around without …well anything on.  After months of constipation and hard poo, his body finally decided to switch things up and he had diarrhea.

I learn about it from a little voice whispering from around the bedroom corner… “Mommy, I made mess.”

Still less gross than cleaning up after a puppy, at least.

Today is also the day he learns that the stair gate has a secret flaw: he can, with some unnatural contortions, squeeze under it.  There are officially no baby-free areas left in the house.


Benjaroo has been having screaming fits and is only calmed by being held.  I generally just put him in my wrap so I can get things done.  Turns out, I left the wrap in the car.  I run downstairs and grab it.  I come back and Roo is screaming even louder, if that’s possible.  LPK is standing on mis stool and going through a kitchen drawer (that’s a no-no).  That particular drawer is benign, however, and Roo really needs me, so I hurry and attempt to don my wrap when I hear a large crash.

LPK has fallen off his stool, and from the looks of the blood pooling around his face, he hit the drawer on the way down.  Baby is now second priority and I run over to my crying two-year-old.  I assume he’s bitten his lip and give him a cool damp cloth.  I clean off the lips, but there is no cut.  Still blood, but I see it’s coming from the mouth. I’m hoping it’s no a tooth knocked out– poor kid hasn’t even had his first dental visit yet.  Nope, teeth look fine.

“Aw, it’s ok,” I console Spike.  “You probably just bit your tongue.”  And he had.  But it was no little nibble… it was a gash and it was maybe a millimeter short of cutting entirely through his tongue.  Everytime he moved his tongue the wound would gape open and blood would fill his mouth.  So freaking creepy.

Five minutes later he was calm and I was finally able to attend to my other wailing child.  I sat down to nurse and heard another crash.

Spike had fallen off the stool again.

I sent him to take the stool and put it away in his room.  I found him a few minutes later in the bathroom.  On the stool.  Sticking out his tongue in the mirror and examining the bloody grand canyon.

*We didn’t go to the doctor for the tongue.  From what I’ve read, it’s something that will heal on it’s own.  Doctors will only suture if it’s bitten clean through.  He’s on a crumb free diet for the next 48 hours to promote clean healing.  (If any pediatric nurses *cough* Adri *cough* have experience with this, feel free to chime in.  Also, I bought him popsicles, but apparently they are “too cold” and are best used as a makeshift spoon for applesauce.  


That would be today.  I’m sure it will be exciting.

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