Then today, while in a very agitated state because of who-knows-what, she went out front and decided to take it out on my bushes. I went out there and told her to stop whacking at the bushes, she told me to shut up (one of her newest and fondest things to say to me), and I was ugly back (not a great Mommy moment), and went back inside. The next thing I heard was her outside, crying in a very scared manner. She runs inside holding her head, which was gushing blood down her face. Apparently she turned from the bushes to the dog leash and was swinging it around in anger, until she hit herself in the forehead with the metal end of the leash. Natural consequences I would say. I took one look at it, noted the gaping hole, and said yep you need stitches. So off to the ER for the long wait. Luckily my husband relieved me after an hour or so. She came home with three stitches and instructions not to play lacrosse for the week. Great. Just when we got off to a good start. Oh well.
One day in the life of Caroline Denisovitch. (In college, I actually didn't get it until after I had finished the whole book that all of that happened in one day to that guy. I mean that was a lot of stuff to happen in 24 hours. Now I understand how that can be, sadly.)