Sometimes one will wake up, I start to nurse that one back down, they're almost out, then the other one wakes up and starts grunting and looking for me. Crap. He or she soon realizes that mommy isn't around, then quickly progresses to crying out for me, while I helplessly watch in silence, desperately hoping they'll miraculously fall back to sleep. The other night, it happened to be Mr. Atticus. I almost had Beatrix to sleep, and he got so mad that he started thrashing around the bed looking for me. He began to cry loudly, so I made an executive decision. I wondered how quickly I could scoop him up and get him into the crib in the office down the hall, so that I could at least get Bea back to sleep in silence? I de-latched Bea, grabbed Atticus, and ran down the hall. There was a doorway jumper in the doorway blocking my path- could I shove it aside and run past it? YES! But, that convenience didn't cross my mind at the time. With one hand, I quickly removed it from the top of the door and threw it aside, resulting in a loud crash. Oops. I continue on, setting Atticus in the crib, then... a loud 'THUD!" comes from the room down the hall, then, a deep moaning sound. The sound of my hero getting tangled in his blankets, and falling out of bed en route to rescue us all from the scary, loud crash. I needed to get back to Beatrix if I wanted to get her back to sleep in this small window of time... but I should probably go check on Monte. I popped my head in the door, and there he was lying on the floor. Aw, poor guy, he must've hit his knee again, I thought. He is ALWAYS hitting his knee on everything and it is not unusual for him to curl up in the fetal position on the floor after doing so.
I had to get back to Beatrix, but I felt obligated to ask him, "Are you okay?", his response was a series of moans. Men are such babies. But, really, how many more times was he going to bust that knee and roll around on the floor in pain? At this point poor Atticus was screaming in the crib, and if I could just get Bea back to sleep, I could work on him. But, it was too late, when I got back to the room, she was sitting up in the bed, wide-eyed and looking around the room, and as soon as she saw me, she started to cry. At this point I had two crying infants, and a husband who was STILL lying on the floor of the kids room down the hall, moaning and groaning. I picked up Beatrix, then went to get Atticus. I carried the crying babies down the hall to check on daddy. He was still on the floor. Really? He's still on the floor? "I think I broke my toe", he manages to groan. You have got to be kidding me. How dramatic can the guy be? Sheesh. "Do you need some ice or something?" I ask loudly over the babies cries. He responds with a moan, so I decide to walk around the house with the babies until they calm down, then I can deal with my other child, Mr. Whiney Pants, who I could now hear sliding down the hall on his butt.
Once the babies are calm enough, I set them on the rug in the living room to play. It's 3AM, not the ideal time for a playdate, but it'll do. I find Monte now in the bathroom, on the floor. Okay, now I see that there's blood everywhere- and, excuse me but, it's getting all over the white rug that just washed and- er... okay now I feel kind of bad because he looks like he's in pain... and it's swelling up a lot. He says "I think I need to go to the ER." Oh, really? "Okay, but you have to drive yourself." I say. There's no way I'm loading up 4 kids in the car at 3am, on a school night/day, no less, to take him to the ER for a busted toe. No way. The babies start fussing, so I go back to tend to them. Meanwhile, Monte hobbles into the bedroom to find clothes and a shoe for his working foot. He throws on an Adidas jumpsuit and a scarf. What a sight to see, he was- bloody toes, hopping on one foot- how did this happen again??
He somehow makes it out the door, and drives himself to the ER with his left foot. He later tells me how he felt like he was in the scene from Halloween 2 in the parking lot, as he tried to get from the car to the ER entrance. He hopped from car to car, clutching his now blood-covered foot in a wad of Starbucks napkins that he found in our car. He could see the entrance, and just beyond was the little check-in window with a nurse inside. He hopped with all his might, but couldn't quite make it in one go. As he sat, out of breath on the curb outside, not 20 feet from the entrance, a good samaritan exiting the ER offered to help get him in a wheelchair, and in he went, where he was told to take a seat and wait. For a moment he was glad that he might finally have a quiet minute or two to play Angry Birds, but he was in too much pain to concentrate on it. There weren't many people before him, but it seemed everybody was being let in before him because it was "just a toe." But, it turned out that his toe was busted real good. He broke his big toe-bone completely in half, and jammed his nail down and the cuticle skin with it. It's really gross, and apparently very painful. So, now, he's basically bedridden, on crutches, and I've gained a 5th child.