Hello!
It's been a long weekend of ups and downs, but we did manage to get away, to Coventry AND Norwich, and got home yesterday. Clinging to the car for the rest of the day and been to Morrisons for a good old mooch, then off to Bluewater later to see if I can spend my Mothercare voucher in relative peace without feeling like I'm holding anyone up- collect DH from work, drop off car, home, and a massive hawaiian pizza for tea. :)
Need it!
In the end I had 2 days with no food, pretty much, as sometime on Friday afternoon while I was packing, Phoebe had an accident and I ended up in the walk-in centre. Argh!
I know you're all going to be either horrified with me or wincing in sympathy, but Phoebe has just started sitting up herself- bit wobbly, but I really don't want her on the floor as if she falls. she'll bash her head on the boards, so I've been letting her sit on the sofa- I know, I know...
Anyway, she was sat quite happily, I noticed she was looking for one of her toys that had gone over the edge, and as I turned around to do some packing I thought oh, I'll get that in a minute, at which point I heard a thump.
Oh, I was nearly sick. Phoebe was lying on the floor on her back near the sofa. The silence quickly turned into screams as she cried and cried and cried. I couldn't tell how she'd hurt herself, whether it was shock or what, but once the angry red face subsided a bit I could see a big red mark on the side of her forehead- she must have rolled forward over the edge of the sofa, spun in the air and hit her head (hopefully a glancing blow) before landing on her back.
In that horrible 5 minutes wondering what the fuck to do, I thought we'd better go to the walk-in centre. Out we went with me with wet hair, and I rang DH on the way but my battery died before I could leave more than 'Hey love, on my way to the walk-in centre, Phoebe's...'
Got there and had to wait 2 hours to be seen. It was horrible, knowing she could be badly hurt and it was first come, first served, but as we waited, and a little boy did various antics to amuse Phoebe, she laughed and laughed and I thought she was probably fine. Eventually we got in and yeah, she's ok. Bounced well. Doctor said we could still go away (phew!) but to watch her for 48 hours, and if she vomited more than once, to go straight to the nearest A&E. Wah!
Home, to try and get packing done, as DH was finishing work early, and as I was walking down our road he leapt out of the house and came pelting down the road towards me. He looked so fraught I couldn't help laughing.
Then the whole drama unfolded.
He'd gone for a tea break around 2pm, happened to check his phone and got the message 'hey love' in a panicky voice, before it cut off. He couldn't get hold of me, so he started to get worried. He rang his dad, who hadn't heard from me, and my dad, who hadn't heard from me either, then got a taxi home, frantically walked to the shops trying to find me as he knew I was going to Aldi, rang my friend from baby group, who hadn't seen me, and then his dad was out in the car looking for me. They even went to the police, and FiL was on his way to the hospital when DH got hold of him to say he'd found me.
He'd thought I'd either had an accident, been ambushed by a gang, Phoebe had been stolen, or I had either left him or was dead. (Umm, overreaction!)
What a palaver!
So that was our Friday.
Things we learnt: DH is going to change his answerphone message (it's really long). If it hadn't been so long I'd have been able to leave a proper message before my phone died.
I am going to double check that my phone is charged before I leave the house, or just upgrade the damn thing so the battery isn't quite so crap.
I'll leave a note to say where I've gone.
Also maybe ring someone and let them know what's happening before I leave the house, so I can use the house phone if need be.
Learn from my mistakes! I think DH aged 10 years with the worry.
Hope your weekends were less fraught!