No more Marleys jumping on the bed!

I hope that my Friday afternoon Mom Scare is as bad as it gets.  If not ever, at least for a long, long while.  It's two days later, and in retrospect, the entire incident was manageable, but for about three heart-stopping minutes, I was terrified.

Todd was at school, teaching his fourth block class.  I was perched on my bed, feeding Rudy a bub.  Marley was jumping beside us, bouncing on her feet, her bum, and her shins, and singing something nonsensical.  

Then she landed on her shins and slammed the side of her head into the wall, and I heard a sharp, loud, thunk.  I moved Rudy to the middle of the bed, grabbed Bean and threw off her glasses (I was sure they were broken, but the weren't), and asked her where it hurt.  Her mouth was wide open and face was rapidly turning the reddish-purple of a kid who hasn't let out a scream yet.  She pointed to the side of her head, and I told her to breathe, to scream, to cry.  Then she got spitty, shivered, and her whole body went rigid before her eyes rolled back into her head and she was limp.  For about one second.  Then her eyes opened and she was crying and I was hyperventilating, racing with her in my arms to the kitchen for the phone and an ice pack.

Since Marley was awake and coherent, I called her pediatrician's office instead of 9-1-1.  I used my cell because the number's programmed in and I was not rational enough to dial a string of numbers.  The receptionist put me on hold to find a nurse and I panted while I asked a stunned Marley how many fingers I was holding up (two), if her head still hurt (yes), and if she could hold the ice pack (also yes).  At the same time, I used my house phone to dial Todd's cell.  Several times.  When the nurse got to me, things were calmer.  I asked Marley to smile at me.  She did.  The nurse asked all the right questions and I must've given all the right answers because she reassured me that such a brief loss of consciousness wasn't extremely unusual.  She asked me to call back if Marley: vomited more than once, fell asleep at an unusual time, stumbled around, or in general, wasn't acting like herself.

Marley was, in fact, fine for the rest of the day.  I set her up on the couch with a pile of library books, some juice, two packages of the gummies my sisters give her and I use as rare indulgences, and a banana-chocolate Pop Tart.  Let's put things in perspective: high fructose corn syrup or a possible concussion?  Whatever.

I read through all of the library books and tried Todd a few more times.  When he finally called, I explained that if I'm calling him repeatedly when I know he's in the middle of a class, it's not to ruminate on the state of the Gosselins' marriage.  Something is wrong.  It turns out he had confiscated two kids' cell phones and stuffed them in his pockets by the time I was calling, so when he felt a ring he assumed one of his stellar students was receiving a text in the middle of U.S. History.  

Marley is well.  She is delightful.  I brought her (and Rudy) with me to Emma's when I was babysitting on Saturday night, because Bean didn't want me to leave and I didn't want to leave her either.  On Saturday morning, she accompanied Heather, my mom, and me on some errands for the same reason.  She was fantastic the whole time.  Since Friday afternoon, she has, of course, had her ridiculous moments.  But I'll take them.

And also, Marley's sense of style has not been affected by the incident.  It's still pajamas, nighties, and headbands all over the place all of the time.