Saturday, March 26, 2011

Fat lip.

The day started innocently enough. I got up, downed some tea and took off to meet up with some friends for a run. The run started later than I had been expecting, but no matter. When I finally returned to my car to head home, I noticed that Peter had called me four times, left a message and texted me. I didn't read the text or check my voicemail, but I called him to tell him I was on my way. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I knew I was getting home almost an hour later than I had originally planned and I also knew Peter was hoping to leave for a long road ride with a friend, so I raced home.

As soon as I arrived home, I was presented with this face:





It was all an accident, but Haven's top lip took the full brunt of a fall while I was out running this morning. Peter was on his own to deal with the enormous amount of blood that ensued, all the while afraid that Haven's two front teeth may have been pushed back into her gums with the force of the fall. By the time I arrived home, the bleeding had all but stopped and I managed to feel around in her mouth, deciding her teeth looked and felt OK. But that swelling was something else! 





Haven was understandably unwilling to have anything cold pressed against her mouth, but she was more than happy to eat a fruit-juice freezy (or two). It seemed to staunch the last of the bleeding and helped to reduce the swelling somewhat. But the lip remained pretty puffy for the rest of the day and it turned rather red as the swelling started to recede. Peter didn't see exactly what happened, but whatever it was, it was a doozy.



But apparently not even a five-pound fat lip will stop my Little Handful. She didn't miss a beat today, getting into anything and everything within her reach, even trying to chew on the shopping cart when I took her to the grocery store this afternoon. And she was flashing her fat-lipped smile to anyone who caught her eye, forcing me to explain that she had hurt herself when they inevitably asked what had happened. 


Oh, to have the resiliency of a wee Babe. 




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