So, really...

If my life were a soap opera, it would never catch on because no-one would believe it. Viewers would switch off tutting and complaining that all bounds of credibility had been stretched beyond belief and the writers were treating them like idiots because, pttthhhhh, no-one has a life that full of drama and mayhem. Do they? DO they?
Happy birthday to me, yesterday. Beautiful day with glorious sunshine and promises of happy things.
We were almost set for the perfectly posh party and I had let the boys skip the last but one day of school because, sunshine, cake, fun? We need it, muchly.
10.30am, time to shoot to the shop and buy some strawberries and cream. Home again home again, jiggety jig. As I drove through the gates at 10.55am ( 5 minutes to party time) I saw H and Seth at the door, covered in blood and screaming ( Seth that is, H was sort of hopping on one leg and holding Seth and looking relieved to see me and maybe 20 seconds away from screaming too.)
Isaac had slammed Seth's bedroom door and Seth's finger was in the way, Yegads, I took a quick look and saw bone, ack......straight to hospital, left Seth and H there and drove home, I left the door open and made one quick call to tell my friend what was happening. On the way home I got a call from my niece and explained to her and asked her to go in and at the same time warn her that it looked like a scene of crime in the house. Seth has run upstairs, downstairs, in the bathroom, the blood, there was much.
I got home, luckily people were running late and I set to, scrubbing the blood off the carpets, walls and sink. Then I heard Gemma...
" Helen! Oh, normally I'm not the squeamish sort but I found the finger. Oh!!"
Wanna see? Want to see my boys FINGER???? It's blurry but still gross and will make you legs quiver and your stomach churn, be warned.
Here's a link . That's the whole nail, the nail bed and about 1/4 inch of his finger.

Happy birthday to me....happy birthday to me, I thought I would vomit, happy birthday to me.

Poor little boy. He was amazing, he had surgery, they had to trim the bone, try and close the wound. He's bandaged up and will have to see various people in a week and then 2 weeks. He will never have a nail and I expect his finger will look pretty weird but he isn't in pain and seems fine. H and I might stop shaking around about 2013, maybe.

I think my party was fine, I was there in body but my brain was really elsewhere and as soon as everyone left at 3pm ( without eating cake because who can remember to serve cake or talk or be sociable when your boy has his finger stuck on a door frame? I had taken it down by then and even showed people who aren't my mum, because grandma's legs give out when 6 year olds digits are wrapped in paper towel and handed around at a party) I shot back to the hospital just as the boy was coming out of surgery. He was in hospital for about 10 hours, we got home around 10pm. He is just fine, amazing how kids just get on with life and let it all go.
I woke up at 3.40 having a panic, somehow at the time I just got on with had to be done but when I relaxed and it was all over....
OH MY LIFE! HIS FINGER! THE FINGER! STUCK TO THE DOOR! POOR LITTLE FINGER THAT IS IN THE BIN AND NOT ON MY LITTLE BOY'S HAND!
So, that was yesterday.
Sophie is happy. It is a long time since I heard her talk with hope in her voice. Still praying. Always praying.