Blunt Head Trauma vs. The Sunny Attitude

I am having an internal struggle right now. I've been employing my new positive attitude since my move to California and the effects have been astounding. Or rather, I assume they have using some nonscientific analysis. I've felt better in general than I have in years. I'm sure it's not all attributable to my new attitude. The fact that I have more days of sunshine than ever before in my life likely helps as well. These are counterbalanced from distance to loved ones. Yet, I am still at a net mood positive. Too many factors to attribute it to one thing, but I believe the positive attitude helps...

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I have a colossal headache this morning. I think it borders on a mild concussion, but Lynnea disagrees. This headache is at war with my upbeat nature. People ask how I am. I want to say "In pain!", but that's negative. And negative thoughts help perpetuate a negative mood. But "doing great!" isn't quite true, either. What's a ray of sunshine to do?

I can't even laugh about the reason for the headache, which is the titular "Blunt Head Trauma". I didn't do it in a particularly funny way. Josh had sandwiched himself between the ladder and the bunk bed. He has this cool fort/bunk bed with a ladder at one end and a slide running parallel at the other. So, his arms were on the ladder, behind his head. His feet were on the bed. His body was in that small space in between, folded in half. He was calling for help. Daddy to the rescue!

The unfortunate part is that he was in his room for a time out. He was just about to be released when he started yelling at me to let him out. I poked my head in to explain to him that yelling was not the best way to show me he had calmed down. I had a little trouble opening the door. I made the mistaken assumption that the banging which had been keeping him in timeout was made by the combination of various body parts and the door. It turns out that each bang was a series of books. Two shelves with, to be exact. They had made a series of bangs in ones and twos and now created an unstable layer on the floor. You see where this is going, don't you. So, do I. It might be getting a little funny after all.

So, I informed him that he could come out after he picked up all the books and then I closed the door. More yelling. More banging. I realized that I had probably backed him into a corner that was too much for him to get out of this late in the day. I checked with L. and she agreed that I could go back in and tell him we would clean it up together. I delivered my benevolent proclamation as I opened the door. That's when I found him doing his imitation of the human kraftmatic bed.

I moved to plan B. Extricate the child and then do the cleanup. The problem was the angle. I had to twist a bit and could only reach in with my bad hand. The one with the slow to heal hyper extended thumb. I pushed him up by his butt and had him on the bed when I started to lose my balance and he started to slip back. I gave him an extra forceful nudge with my hand. There was an equal and opposite reaction, thank you Mr. Newton. I was ready for it. I caught myself on the ladder which was conveniently within reach. It was also, somewhat less conveniently, not anchored to the ground. The moment arm of the ladder carried my momentum up and at an angle, instead of down and at an angle. The equal and opposite force? My feet and the floor. Or rather, it would have been the floor if not for the thin and unstable layer of paperback kids books. The books, and my feet, slid. The force carried me away from the ladder and I let go. At least I'll land on the soft rug. Whack! Well, except for the base of my skull. That landed on the edge of the slide.

Fortunately, I was crouching when I helped Josh. The force of a three foot fall onto unyielding wood is much nicer than a six foot fall.

I iced it and went to bed at eight last night. I woke a few times during the night, but in general slept until 6:15. I'm still tired. It's sensitive to the touch. There doesn't seem to be a lump. But the pain is radiating outward to my eyes.

Bleah! I mean, Woo hoo!