Chin Up

This weekend we set the record for more visits to the E.R. than in previous four years combined! As it turns out, we Barlows are overachievers when it comes to injuries, and illnesses for that matter. Which brings me to Friday night. What was set out to be an inconsequential trip to the grocery store with dad turned into the dreaded phone call, you know the one where you immediately know something's wrong. Apparently London lost her footing at Walmart and broke her fall with--what else, her chin. I guess one of the Walmart employees rushed in with a first aid kit and got her all cleaned up, but enter: mom's paranoia mixed with a little bit of vanity and there they all were in the emergency room. The cut was kind of borderline and could have been fixed with a special bandage but insistent mom, the one that hadn't even seen the cut, mind you, pushed for stitches. Three stitches later we have been assured there will be the least bit of scarring possible. I rest my case. (By the way, London was a very brave girl, just ask her!)



Another calamity of the Walmart trip, do these girls have their dad wrapped around their finger or what? I don't know how L & M convinced Ryan they needed princess sleeping bags, let alone permission to have a Friday night campout in his office, but I'm guessing the stitches had something to do with it.

The next day,

and meanwhile, Liv had been making this face for a solid three days. The happiest baby I have ever met, we could only chock it up to teething, after all, she was running a small fever. Then the rash started. At first a diaper rash, then it climbed to her tummy, and the next thing I know it is on her neck and around her eye. Bizarre? I sure thought so. Fighting off my instinct to call 911 (just kidding guys, sort of), I called up the after hours clinic and here is a little snippet of our conversation.

me: Ok so my daughter has a diaper rash that is also on her tummy and face?
nurse: Is she running a fever?
me: Yes, but she's also teething...
nurse: Ok fever and spotted rash, that sounds exactly like Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.
me (immediately burst into tears): That is really bad!
nurse: Yes, I would bring her to the emergency room immediately.

What might be categorized as a high-speed car chase later, in which the whole time Ryan and I were arguing about the severity of the rash. Having myself been diagnosed with an insidious vector-borne illness I know that sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. However, and luckily, a very un-amused doctor looked me in the eye and told me to change her diaper more frequently, and perhaps apply some more ointment. My arguments that I had tried all these things, not to mention raised twins to age four having never had this problem, fell on deaf ears. Oh well, I said, I would rather have an average run-of-the-mill diaper rash on my hands than Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever! (Seriously nurse, is that something going around infants.)
Not to mention, as I was waiting for the doctor to come in, Liv finally threw her head back and revealed the culprit: one ironic top tooth starting to come in.

So an eventful/uneventful weekend for the Barlows complete with new nicknames based on your last hospital visit. From now on, just call us

"church ball" (ryan's rib injury)
"cup o' joe" (maddie's coffee table injury)
"chin up" (london)
"lester lyme" (leslie)
and--


Small Pox.

ps. the rash was gone by morning