*UPDATED* Just call me Crazy Mama, Maker Of Excuses

I wanted to blog every single day this week. I really did. You all seemed to enjoy Monday's Parenting Advice Post, and I was feeling quite inspired.

So Tuesday, I went to blog and found my internet service was down.

And Wednesday, it was STILL DOWN.

Then on Thursday, I had a work day, substitute teaching for my old school, in a kindergarten class. And let's just say that I have a whole new appreciation for teachers AND substitute teachers. Go out and get your kid's teacher a nice little gift, STAT. Seriously. That is some damn hard work. How did I used to DO that every day?

So anyway, it's Friday, and here I am. I am SO TIRED. I cannot seem to wake up. The 'morning' sickness of early pregnancy is over for the most part (although I'm still suffering a coffee aversion...I know! The HORROR!), but now I am having Sleeping Sickness.

My husband got Garrett up and going this morning, allowing me to sleep in until 8:30. You'd think since I fell asleep before 10 last night that I would wake well rested and energized, but no. At 9:30 I put the kids in front of Sesame Street and fell asleep for another hour.

As a matter of fact, I could lay down again RIGHT NOW. And I just might. Shamefully, it is 11 am and I still have jammies on, have not brushed my hair or put in my contacts, and I also discovered that when I showered yesterday, I forgot to shave my left armpit.

My dad and step-mom are taking our kids overnight tonight, and do I want to get dressed up and go to dinner and a movie? Uh, no. I'd like to sleep. Forever and ever, amen.

In other news, exactly one year ago today, I had The Worst Mother Moment Ever. On January 26, 2006, my 20 month old daughter fell off one of our newly purchased bar chairs and busted her nose open in two places.

It still makes my legs weak when I think about it. I was steps away from the kitchen, heard a huge crash, and that alarming cry of pain. I ran in and saw Laura standing in the kitchen with blood spouting out in giant arcs from her nose. Then she tried to run to me and fell in the puddle of blood.

Now, when my son was small, we had two ambulance visits before he even turned one. They were caused by an overly cautious and freaked out new mother, and there was NOTHING WRONG. In one case, it was just a busted lip that swelled a little and was absolutely no big deal but I called 911 because My God I thought he had knocked a tooth out and there was just so much blooooooood.

So anyway, with that in mind, I tried not to freak too bad, thinking, "It's just a bloody nose! I'll just put some pressure on it and it will stop!" So in my utter calmness, I grabbed a DIRTY DISH RAG and pressed it onto the wound, while screaming at my barely 3 year old son, "What HAPPENED? WHAT HAPPENED?"

He said, "I was just tryin' to clean her foot!" (A story he stands by to this day, by the way.)

I then took a better look at my screaming baby's nose and realized it was not just a bloody nose...it was not a whole nose anymore...it was completely severed in two places. There was a complete split right up the middle and on the left side. Oh yes. Let the freaking out begin.

Thankfully, my husband happened to be working in his downstairs office that day, and I began screaming for him at the top of my lungs, over and over. Then I commanded Garrett to go down and GET DADDY RIGHT NOW. He said, "I can't! The gate is shut!" So at least no one would be tumbling to the bottom of the stairs...what a relief.

Hubby heard my screaming and came leaping up the stairs. He started the car and loaded Garrett up, and thankfully put some flip flops on my feet as I was attempting to carry Laura to the car barefooted (oh, and did I mention that I hadn't brushed my teeth, fixed my hair, put a bra on, or gotten dressed yet? Seems to be a recurrent theme...).

I let Laura, who had stopped screaming and was eerily calm, sit in my lap on the way to the Emergency Room. On the way there, I varied between The Picture Of Motherly Calmness and Freaking The Hell Out. I started wondering if they could save her nose. I always thought it would be my rambunctious SON who would have scars on his face, not my baby daughter. Would she have to have surgery? Was her tiny nose broken? I balled my eyes out because I had BROKEN MY BABY. Would Child Protective Services come take the kids away? I was in MUCH worse shape than the bleeding infant on my lap.

So anyway, we got the ER, and I approached the front desk, attempting to stay composed. However, when the attendant asked non-chalantly, "So what happened, Mom?", I only managed to choke out, "Fell! Nose!" before dissolving into sobs.

They put Laura in a teeny tiny hospital gown with teeny tiny monitors on her, and informed me that a plastic surgeon was on his way. They asked if I would like for her to be held down while they stitched or if we wanted to have her sedated. We chose sedation, but that was the worst part of the whole deal.

They gave her Ketamine, which I was told is an animal tranquilizer that makes adults hallucinate, but that they didn't believe it had that strong of an effect on children. While administering the sedative, there were six doctors who stood silently and attentively, making sure she didn't have a serious reaction. As the drug took effect, Laura became very sleepy and loopy, and her eyes started twitching around. I've never been so scared.

I watched the doctor put seven stitches in her itty bitty nose, and she twitched, made moaning noises, and squeezed on my hand during the procedure. The Ketamine just sedates, but does not put you to sleep.

As she woke up, her speech was slurred and she acted very weird. But everything went as well as it could have, and the doctors were all very kind. CPS did not visit my house, and Laura wouldn't sit in the bar chairs for six months. And at almost 3 years of age, she has NEVER tried to climb out of her crib.

One year later. There is only the tiniest scar, but we think she is absolutely perfect!