Concussed?

This is the post my mom has been begging me to write since the event occurred.  Not because it highlights our parenting adventures, but I think because it paints a perfect picture of the quick wit of Evelyn's Uncle Charlie.  As it is, this is the story of our almost first trip to the emergency room.

A few Saturdays ago, Steve was up at his parents' helping his dad rip out the old deck.  Evelyn took a nap, woke up, ate, and it was time to change her and get her dressed for the day.  I put on her new diaper, after which she immediately rolled over onto her belly on the table.  I know all the books make perfectly clear that you are to keep one hand on baby at all times when they are on the changing table so that they don't roll off. Once she started rolling, I still wasn't really worried about the rolling because, much like Derek Zoolander, Evelyn is not an ambi-turner.  At the time, she could only roll to the right, which was towards the wall.  Not that I ever walk away while she's on the table, but if I need to grab diapers or wipes or clothes out of the drawer in the table, I don't pick her up.

So, she rolled over and I took this opportunity to grab an outfit for the day.  As I was pondering the blue crab bubble shorts or the pink monkey bubble shorts, she began her new thing.  You know those "superman" exercise moves where you lay on your belly and lift your arms and legs at the same time?  Her new thing is to do those, but fast and spastic like she's just downed a 5 hour energy drink.  She loves it, it amuses her, and it makes us laugh.  Until I heard the crack that could only be a head whacking into the side of the very solid table, and the wail that followed.

I immediately also burst into tears, grabbed her, and panicked.  Do I call 911?  the doctor?  put ice on it?  not do anything because maybe she's just reacting to my horror at the thought that I've just given my kid a traumatic brain injury?  Notice that at no point did I think, maybe I should call Steve?  How could I call and tell him that I've just broken his perfect baby girl?  That after all the eye-rolling and I'll do its, it was actually me who ruined her first?

I ended up doing what any normal new mom would do, I called my mom.  After explaining the situation, her first question was, "What's she doing now?  I don't hear anything, is she crying?"  In the two minutes that I tried to figure out what to do, Evelyn had calmed down and moved on.  At this point Kelly also came out of her room (the crying had woken her up, so I'm not just being dramatic) and did a quick nurse's once-over, declared her fine and told me to get over it.

Still not convinced, I packed Evelyn in the carseat, and drove to my parents'.  Nanny declared her fine, and we proceeded to take our walk, as intended.  I still had not called Steve.  Why worry him?  We took our walk and Evelyn fell asleep.  In my mind I was convinced she had a concussion, not that it's totally normal for her to fall asleep on a walk.  When we got back, I was relieved that she woke up as soon as I started taking her out of the stroller.

We went into the house, where I explained to my brother, Charlie, what had happened, and concluded the story with...

ME: But it's ok, she doesn't have a concussion or anything.

CHARLIE: How do you know?

ME: She woke right up after her nap, and it's hard to wake up a person with a concussion.

CHARLIE: That's not the only sign.  Evelyn, WHERE ARE YOU??  WHAT'S THE DATE??  SAY YOUR NAME!

NANNY: (In her best Beyonce impression, which those of you who know her, know is impressive) Say my name, say my name...

EVELYN: What kind of nut house is this?

Steve finally got home a little later, and I confessed what had happened and showed him the little bruise that did develop right at the top of her nose.  Although at this point, I'm not sure that it wasn't just some kind of mark that was already there and I just never noticed because it hasn't gone away three weeks later.  Or maybe I really did ruin her?  His response, "Maybe we should start strapping her down when we change her?"  I fought the urge to eye roll and said maybe that was a good idea.  On the inside I was thinking, "Oh right, and how am I supposed to get her dressed every day strapped in?"  To prove his point, he took her right in for a diaper change and strapped her down.  He turned to get a diaper and when he turned back, this is what he found: