Before I get to describing Sam's birthday weekend (because I'd rather end this entry on a good note), I need to tell you how his birthday actually ended. Terribly, that's how. I totaled my car and ended up in the hospital.

Of course, since I'm home and writing this, you'll know that I'm okay. My neck is in terrible pain, but the x-rays showed no visible damage. "Cervical strain," they said, and prescribed Tylenol and cold compresses. Rest, too, but that's harder to come by in a house with a one-year-old. He's asleep at the moment, so I should probably be resting, myself. I wanted to tell you guys about it first.

I'm a bit shaky on what happened. I was leaving our house for the store, and I was waiting at the end of our street to pull out into traffic. The sun was in my eyes and traffic was heavy; I didn't see the car passing in front of me until it was too late.

Sam didn't even cry. As I sat for a moment, hearing the hiss of the engine and the clatter of car pieces on the road, he piped up from the backseat: "Blah-BUB-ba-ba-weeble." In shock, I turned off the already-stalled engine, put my keys in my purse, and got out. I grabbed Sam from his seat, where he was smiling and kicking, and walked to the edge of the road, where I collapsed. The neighbors had streamed out of the building; one called the police, and the others crowded around and waited with me.

I was rubbing my neck without noticing, and one of the neighbors pointed that out to the EMT workers who soon arrived. Sam was given to another woman while I found myself being strapped into a neck brace and put onto a back board. I was crying, I think, but I could barely catch my breath. Emotions of panic, relief for Sam's safety, fear, and worry were warring in my mind, and I couldn't even speak coherently.

I was in the ambulance when Eric arrived. He squeezed my hand and told me he loved me before Sam and I were whisked to the hospital; Eric finished giving the police my information before following us. Sam was in high spirits, enjoying his ambulance ride to the fullest. He shouted and laughed as the EMT dangled a stethoscope in front of him. As far as Sam was concerned, this was all part of a fantastic birthday present that Mama had arranged for his benefit.

At the hospital, Sam and I were examined. It was very apparent that Sam was fine and dandy, and the above conclusions were reached concerning my own health by about ten o'clock in the evening. We were sent on our merry way with waves from the nurses that Sam had charmed into submission.

I don't know what we're going to do about the car. We had insurance, but Eric thinks it will only pay a thousand dollars or so. I was cited for "failure to yield," so we have to pay that, too. Not good news. I could just shoot myself. Really.

Memories of the weekend help to make me feel a little better. Sam had a blast with my family. The trip to Pittsburgh was more eventful than most, as Sam began to sob hysterically when we were almost there, eventually working himself into a full-blown vomit. Poor baby! I cleaned him as well as I could while Eric found a rest-stop for us.

The rest of the trip was an unadulterated success. Sam loved playing in the pool with my parents, splashing and kicking. The birthday presents were received graciously and happily, with the biggest hits being a lawnmower, a dump truck, and a train set. He also got a lovely rocking chair, a push chime, lots of clothes and books, and other delightful toys that made him chuckle.

Cake time was hysterical. We presented him with his own little cake, candle glowing, and he stared, mystified, at us while we sang to him. Then I blew out and removed his candle, pushed the cake toward him - and he bent over and planted his face in it.

As we laughed until we nearly cried, Sam steadfastly refused to touch the cake with his fingers. I handed him a fork after a few moments, and he went to town on the cake, shoveling bite after bite into his mouth before turning and generously offering bites to other family members. He coated himself in icing, as all one-year-olds do, and did considerable work on the cake itself, filling himself to the brim. He didn't greatly appreciate the bath that followed, but was pleased as punch to romp around naked after that.

The weekend was too short. I already miss Mom and Dad, and Cory, though geographically much closer, is also gone again. It's quiet again...that is, except for the piles of toys and the baby yelling at them. Such is life!

Eric says the brother of one of his coworkers is selling an old Escort wagon. Another coworker has offered to take Eric with him to the police auction in a week, where cars can be had cheaply, but unpredictable in quality. Think good thoughts for us!

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one year ago: I was resting from having had a baby. two years ago: This is why we've had no luck after trying for eight cycles.

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