Poor Little Prize Fighter

Q had a rough day yesterday. By the time he went to bed I was afraid some one would call CPS! It started when we were playing outside. Q picked up a little sprinkler head and was playing with it. Since Z's favorite game is to snatch what ever Q is holding, she grabbed it. Having witnessed the whole exchange, I told Z to give it back. She gave me a look and threw it over her shoulder. Where it promptly gouged a divot out of Q's right eyebrow.

It was one of those injuries where he sucked in a huge breath and held it for what seemed like a whole minute, then let loose with the bloodcurdling screams. Luckily, it was just a gouge and no stitches were required.

After a series of unfortunate choices, Z was banned from the tub and Q was in the tub by himself. He was reaching into the toy bag and his great giant head overbalanced him. He bashed into the side of the tub. With his ear. It ballooned up and was clearly painful. Great. Cauliflower ear. Then, on the way out the tub, he slipped again and hit his chin. It didn't break the skin, but there was a big scrape.

Poor little guy. It just wasn't his day.

Z's behavior cycles from challenging to an-ice-pick-in-my-eye-would-be-more-pleasant. Things have been running pretty smoothly lately, but with all the time we have spent traveling in the last month, she is ramping up to almost unbearable levels. Even though I am the primary care taker, she is keenly missing her dad.

I am totally tired of the single parent thing. I feel this way every hunting season. Throw in my trip to California and going down to see my folks and I think we have spent maybe five days with everyone in the same house this month. Blah.

Oh, well. T will be home on Thursday, and I think we will be together until after Christmas, even if we are taking another trip out to the ranch. I am even looking forward to that. I miss my hubby. I miss having someone to shoulder the load - however temporarily. Someone to help referee our little prize fighters.