Just another day in A & E

There's too many things to tell you all - I don't even know where to begin.

If I'd written a post on Saturday night I would have told you all about the Superhero party we went to and the two beautiful Supergirl costumes I picked up on e-bay for a third of the normal retail price (I just love a bargain). The party was fabulous, of course, and Renée and Edie had a blast - believing pehaps that for two hours, at least, they were indeed Supergirls. I remember those days of feeling invincible and it made me a touch nostalgic and sad to think that I am no longer. And neither is Renée - more on that in a minute.

But I didn't write a post on Saturday night because for some inexplicable reason (nothing to do with screaming children, too much chocolate and a long drive back in the dark with contact lenses that needed changing), I had a raging headache and it was all I could do to put my two Supergirls in bed before I hit the sack myself.

And if I'd written a post yesterday afternoon I could have told you about the wonderful time we'd had at the sushi restaurant and how proud I am that my children eat raw fish without pulling funny faces and despite the cost (don't ask), it's Renée's favourite treat and we all ate so much that I'm now full up for the rest of the week. But I didn't write about that either because I was overly shattered and all I could think about was getting the girls into bed before I sat down with a cup of tea to get my Sunday night fill of Lost. That was until...

'Waaahhhhhhhhhh'. Renée's piercing screams jolted me away from whatever it was I was doing (strangely I can not recall although it probably had something to do with reading someone else's blog).

Now for those of you who've ever visited our house, you'll know those bloody lethal concrete steps that lead into the sitting room and you can thus envisage the carnage. For those who don't, I'm sure you can imagine. In case you can't, I shall describe the scene of devastation for you. Renée was lying flat out with her chin literally stuck to the edge of the step, blood spewing forth like a pressurised leaking pipe. Through her blood, tears and snot she uttered the most heartbreaking of words.

'Mummy I think I need a plaster'.

'Ooh, I think you're gonna need more than a plaster sweetie'.

It's times like this I could really do with a husband. But hold on, I have one...oooh he's just a hundred thousand miles away in Zambia and I'm left to pick up the pieces (literally - I think there was something that looked a bit like flesh on the step).

Husband - if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I know you'd be here if you could and you're away earning money for us so we can live and eat (more sushi) - but really, I needed you yesterday. A LOT.

So, with poor Renée trying her hardest to be brave whilst clutching a red sodden piece of loo paper to her chin, I attempted to get Edie dressed for the car journey. She had, up until that moment, been wondering around naked, teasing me, as she does, with promises of potty use. No little presents have yet been delivered into the potty, but the teasing promises are there nonetheless. Edie decided, of course, that she would rather scream and throw one of her delightful tantrums than put a nappy on, but as it was rather imperative we left the house as soon as possible, a nappy it was. Two screaming children, plenty of blood, snot and sweat (all mine) later we arrived at the hospital.

Now I don't know if any of you are familiar with the Royal Sussex County Hospital, but if you are, you will know that it has recently been re-designed with the new addition of an ultra-modern children's hospital. All very lovely, apart from the fact that the car park is now about a ten minute walk from A & E. Fine if you're visiting, but possibly not fine if you're in labour and definitely not fine if you have two screaming children (one with a gash the size of a small mobile phone and a constant drip, drip, drip of blood and the other with arms in the air demanding to be carried). Not fine at all.

I eventually arrived in A & E carrying my two children (both of who weigh about 3 stone), absolutely drenched in sweat (that's the last time I'm responsible enough to make sure we all leave the house wearing full outdoor gear in case we catch a cold), and having the most terrible hot flush. You would have been forgiven for thinking that I was either slightly deranged or going through the menopause. I can assure you neither is the case...yet.

Luckily the woman at reception took pity on us and we were seen almost straight away. And instead of stitches, Renée's chin was literally superglued together. Just like that. She was a total trooper and I salute her for being so brave. I'm relieved to say that the gash is not in the middle of her face, but on the underside of her chin, no bones were broken and I have every hope that she won't be mentally scarred. As for the physical scarring - well, I used to go to school with a girl who had a scar in the exact same place and even though she was slim and there was no sign of any fat, it looked like she had an enormous double chin...

I'm hoping, for Renée's sake that she will be spared that injustice at least.