Boo got his first stitch/ER visit on Saturday. Something about a tumble off his wooden stepstool and busting the skin near his left eye open on a corner. The wound itself wasn't actually too bad, but being that he's 2 1/2 and I didn't want the wound to split back open or get infected and fester, to the ER we went. Three hours later, he was stitched up and sucking on a popsicle the nurse gave him. He's such a trooper. I honestly think he's going to be upset when he doesn't have to wear a bandage on his face anymore. He loves picking out what kind to put on.
In all, though, it's an experience I can go without reliving. At all.
On another front, we went to the in-law's yesterday to do the Father's Day thing. Since Erik's brother and family were there, and Great-Grandma S, it was a *perfect* time to spill the beans.
His parents have, for each grandchild, wooden blocks with letters set in the kids' room, first name and middle. So, hey, we had some blocks and Boo didn't really play with them, and hey, they spelled the name we've picked out (first name only, which will go for either boy or girl, yes; middle name will depend on the sex). I put them in a gift bag and had them figure out what it meant. And they got it. His dad even puzzled out the name. Needless to say, they're happy. Except maybe my nephew R, but he's four. All four-year olds are assholes.
Now if I could only be so sure that my family will be so receptive, especially considering my brothers' reactions when I told them we were going to be trying for #2. Oh well, we'll see. I mean, what can they do? If everything goes well, baby'll be here whether they like it or not.
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