Last weekend our family saw both stitches and sickies.
After Noah's soccer game on Saturday we took the boys to the park, where Josh somehow managed to bash Eli's head into some playground equipment and make a gaping, bleeding hole. Since Noah lives in Podunkville, we had to drive a half hour back to our beloved city to get to Children's Urgent Care, where Eli got three awesome little stitches in his previously perfect little head. He didn't like being held down, but he did much better than I thought. I, on the other hand, cowered in the corner with tears in my eyes, just in my baby's line of vision, while Josh held him down on the table. I'm pretty sure I was more scarred than he will be.
Little did we know he had been sick the night before (the mess somehow was missed by his visiting grandfather, who got him out of bed in the morning) and was slowly but surely infecting the entire family. First Josh had his turn, then mine, and also not spared were Noah and his mother, Josh's dad (who was visiting), and probably most of the toddler class at church and the Urgent Care staff. Thanks, little dude. We all survived and I'm hoping this gets us off the hook for the rest of the sickies season (and this pregnancy!).