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Childhood Wounds

May 15, 2009

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Today is my birthday. Woohooo! (39 years + X = ??) It sort of doesn’t feel much different than yesterday, other than all my friends, Facebook and otherwise, and family, are sending me wishes. Thank you!

And of course, I woke up to birthday cards on the dining table. And of course, they have cats and Chihuahuas on them.

Last night was supposed to be a birthday dinner celebration, but that got canceled. My little 4 year old grandson got pitched out of the recliner chair straight into the coffee table. Yes, things like this happen all the time, but that doesn’t negate how horrible I felt about it. Or how scared I was with all the blood.

I recall when my youngest daughter was barely two, we were parked in my parents’ RV by the breakwater in Long Beach, CA, and mom and I were making salad for lunch. My dad was outside with my other daughter, and the littlest one apparently wanted to join her. I turned my head for a split second – it always happens that quickly, I swear – and she tumbled down the steps, through the screen door, onto the rocks below. She split her lower lip wide open and we took her to the ER where they strapped her down like a little pappoose and gave her three or four stitches. She still has that scar.

My grandson may have a small scar, but I sure hope not. The gash was deep and if the glue didn’t work, he would have had to have stitches. But he’s back to normal and called me this morning and yelled Happy Birthday at me in that silly yell little boys do and asked me if I was coming over. He likes to tell people that he “touched his blood”.

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Before the incident, Cayden chills in the “dumb chair” as he now calls it, watching Transformers. I promised him that chair was leaving the house, and the culprit coffee table is also gone. The foot thing only safely supports Daisy, who weighs, oh, four pounds.

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Anyway, no big plans for the birthday. Just spending time with my family and there’s nothing more rewarding, at least to me, than that. I’m so grateful I have them in my life.

Tomorrow is a big neighborhood garage sale and the weather should be fabulous, and I’ll also be prepping tonight for that. I would rather be the shopper than the seller, but one (me) has to clear out the clutter and crapola before I’ll let myself bring in more stuff, even if it’s nice stuff.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

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7 Comments
  1. May 15, 2009 8:50 am

    Happy, Happy Birthday!!!! Even though you’re a year older I bet you feel years younger than you did at this time last year. Your poor grandson, head wounds bleed so much worse than any other kind and can be so scary. Good luck with your garage sale, I had something like 3 of them last summer and hope to never have another one ever again.

    • May 15, 2009 9:02 am

      No doubt I do, Laura. I feel ten years younger. After I get this last batch of stuff out of my garage, I hope to never have another garage sale again. I would skip it, but for the fact that I have some nice stuff to sell – some fabric too that I no longer want. 🙂

  2. May 15, 2009 3:50 pm

    Happy Birthday!!!! Sure sounds like it’s been eventful, I hope your grandson will be okay. We almost share the same birthday. Mine was yesterday♥

  3. Bev permalink
    May 15, 2009 7:12 pm

    Happy Birthday, Claire! Hope it was a lovely day. And, sorry about Cayden’s booboo but it gives you more excuses for Grandma Kisses! 🙂

  4. May 19, 2009 7:21 am

    Happy Birthday! My God I’ve been asleep at the wheel, how could I have missed this? Have a very Happy albeit belated Birthday. ♥

  5. May 19, 2009 10:39 am

    Happy belated Birthday! Im a bad blogger lately, havent had time to catch up on everyones stuff! Sorry about the chair incident…but I think it probably hurt the grownups worse than it hurt him. 🙂

  6. May 30, 2009 6:09 am

    Oh, I’m sorry I missed your birthday! Damn, accidents around the house are scary. I’m sorry this also had to happen on your birthday. Did you ever get the celebration? I love the cards! I’m turning 39 this year myself … I don’t care for that number at all.

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