All posts tagged black eye

I probably had it coming…

Pretty!!!

Pretty!!!

What with all my catering to his every need since the day he was born and all. Yeah, I deserved this.

You should see the other guy.

Oops, did that hurt? Now read me a story old lady!

“Oops, did that hurt? Now read me a story old lady!”

Being a mom is dangerous..

You want a piece of me?

You want a piece of me?

Does this eye bruise make me look fat?IMG_3437 Is this a rite of passage as a mother to two boys? My first black eye?

It was an accident.

Here’s what happened. The boys love it when I play this game with them where I push them down on the bed hard. They just try to sit up. I push them down on the pillow. They laugh and laugh, “Again Mommy! Again!”. Pretty simple. Usually harmless. A bit unorthodox. So, we were having a lazy afternoon lie in the bed. We were about to get up to go swim at our neighbor’s pool and we started playing that game. Henry was next to me and Carter next to him. They took turns sitting up and then I pushed them down. Eventually, the game ended…or so I thought. I was lying there with my head on the pillow reading to Carter when I got blind sided by Henry lunging himself backward onto my face. It HURT. Like real bad it hurt. Like I shot up and said, “Henry! Oh My God!” and just held my face in a pillow saying “Oh My God! Oh my God” over and over for at least a minute. I was waiting for the pain to subside and it took way longer than usual (because I do get hit or rammed once a day or so). By the way, Henry was totally fine. I felt a goose egg on the back of his head, but he didn’t seem affected by that. He’s still in that “two year old sociopathic phase” where he feels no one else’s pain. All he said was, “Read to me!” Sweet Carter took control, “It’s ok mommy. Take deep breaths. I’ll go get an ice pack.” He went down stairs. He came back with those giant hard plastic ice packs for the cooler. “The Spiderman one Carter!”. I went into the bathroom and saw my face. “MY Face! My Fortune!” No, I was not cracking wise anymore. I started to cry. The pain was gone, but I cried anyway because I was bleeding from my face(!) and it swelled up like Tina Turner’s after that hotel fight with Ike. Ok, not that bad, but at the time, I was very hyperbolic.

I facetimed Craig. He gasped! “you may need stitches.” More crying from me. “My modeling career!”(hardeeharhar…mmmm…Hardee’s…FriscoBurger). Then I called our neighbor who we were supposed to swim with. Lucky for me, she and her husband are doctors – yay! They are very kind to allow me to sometimes overuse them as my personal physician since Doug Kwon (my previous personal physician/male bridal attendant/MDPhD in Molecular Immunology/AIDS research friend who has his own lab at HARVARD – yes, HARVARD!) lives in Boston. Seriously, it was such a relief to have them look me over and apply the bandage. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you Martha & Danny!

And that’s it. Whole story. My husband doesn’t hit me. I didn’t have a car accident. I didn’t fall down drunk anywhere. It was just an accident that looks way worse than it seems like it should. Actually, it didn’t look that bad after the first day. It just looked like I had a LOT of purple eye shadow on one eye and some crazy eye liner. I could have just gone to the MAC counter and had them do the other eye the same way and no one would notice. Gradually though, it has gotten worse. Here’s the progression:

We immediately put the matter behind us. Easy to do since he still hasn’t noticed anything different about my face or the fact that he had anything to do with it.

My Little Ike Turner

My Little Ike Turner