Saga of an Ouchie

I had lots I wanted to do tonight - including answering most of your comments in various places, Steff... but there's been a temporary setback in my plans! I had just finished feeding Wombat his lunch, which he didn't eat much of (teething? upset tummy? too much breakfast?) when I noticed him watching intently as Yeti poured milk into his coffee.

In the past two days, Wombat has finally decided he likes milk in a bottle! He drinks from a sippy cup, and a normal mug, but would not really accept cow's milk from either. Then MIL bought organic milk from the local dairy by mistake (we buy the local dairy's milk from Woolies, to support them and because it's nicer than Woolies brand powdered alternatives... but the organic one is a little more expensive). I tried that and Wombat actually drank a few sips. He was having a hard time working out how to rub/chew the mouthpiece of his water sippycup to get some relief from the teething, so I pulled out a bottle (which he had never before agreed to drink from) and offered him some warm organic cow's milk. Slurp slurp slurp...

Back to today, I prepared a bottle of milk for him and poured a glass of normal milk for me. It looked slightly greyish & watery, but smelt and tasted alright, suggesting that our ancient fridge may have frozen and then defrosted it at some stage. I then carried Wombat and our milky drinks out to sit in the rocking chair on the front deck, intending to have a quiet cuddle. I put my glass of milk down, and sat down in the chair without really looking at it. Unfortunately, when we had been playing on the deck earlier, we must have pushed it too close to the edge and I didn't think to check. As soon as we sat down, I felt it start to tip, and encumbered with Wombat in my arms, there was nothing I could do as we fell except hold tightly to him and try to twist so he would land on me. There is a rosebush with large thorns nearby and several rocks. Even in that split second I could imagine what might happen if he went head first into them. It is only about 15 - 20cm from the deck to the ground, but when you add in the height of the chair, it was a reasonable distance, and we fell heavily. The back of my head connected solidly with a tree-trunk (I can still feel the *thunk* and have a nice, painful, egg-shaped lump). Wombat and I lay stunned for a few seconds, then he started to scream. I reassured him that he wasn't hurt (while desperately checking to make sure that was the case).

Yeti came to the rescue, and while he consoled Wombat, I checked for damage to myself. The bump on the head, a scrape on my shin and a few scratches on my feet seemed to be all. Yeti suggested I sit quietly for a while, and went back to what he was doing. Wombat, meanwhile, now convinced that he was fine and the world wasn't going to do anymore sudden hurtling manouvres, started his favourite game of stalking the pussycat. (If he didn't growl with delight whenever he got close, he'd have a much greater chance of catching her!) When she left in a huff, he decided to play with the cast iron windvane, sitting in the corner quietly rusting while it waits to be installed someday. It has a cow on top. (In all the excitement, his desire for a quiet bottle of milk had gone by the wayside, and he refused even a single sip!) I meanwhile was dazedly keeping an eye on him while trying to drink my own milk. No sooner had I brought the glass to lips than the windvane began to topple over on him. I dropped my glass (which didn't break, although it did spill milk all over me) and grabbed it before it fell on him. Yeti came to the rescue again, and amused Wombat while I cleaned up the spilt milk. I guess I really wasn't meant to drink that milk!

We went for a little walk around the house (Wombat has discovered walking holding on to Mummy or Daddy's hands and is an intrepid explorer - the knee pads give him confidence, I think) and played a family game of pussycat patting, by which time I was aching all over - I pulled muscles in my back, neck and hip when I landed. We retired to the playpen, and Yeti rubbed Voltaren into my back. Wombat was very cute and insisted on carefully helping! (pat pat pat thump pat) Then we read books for the half-an-hour left before naptime.

I fell asleep feeding him, and having promised Yeti that I would stay and have a rest, I didn't try to sneak away when I woke up, I just went back to sleep. Wombat woke up before me, and after playing by himself at the end of the bed for a while, came over once or twice for a little feed, a tiny snooze and a 'poke mummy to check she's still sleeping', before going back to playing... his radiant smile when I finally woke up after an hour and a half was just beautiful!

Anyway... it is now night-time, and he has been sleeping well for two and half hours. He slept for seven hours last night which is a bit of a record lately - he hasn't slept through the night since this latest batch of teething started. I am off to join him before I discover any more aches and pains. OUCHIE!

(Ok... so this is probably the longest plea for sympathy that you'll read this week... but hopefully it was mildly entertaining ;P and at least it explains why there hasn't been any progress in moving the posts across to the Baby Wombat blogs!)