Thank you all so much for the prayers and kind thoughts. Noah and I got here yesterday afternoon and he promptly peed through every blessed pair of pants I packed. I've done laundry twice already, although one of those times may have been more because I forgot to add detergent. Maybe. I cop to nothing.
I got to visit with my dad last night -- he's conscious but not feeling super great (NEWSFLASH! NO WAY! WOW!), and looks like he and the pavement got into quite the barfight.
He's still in the ICU and undergoing a zillion tests to determine the cause of his fall (he didn't trip, it was more of blackout and a dead drop to the ground), but a CAT scan revealed that the bleeding in his brain is NOT getting worse. So. There is that, and y'all feel free to cue up the ER theme music in your heads right now. Doo doo doop doop, or however it goes.
I made some fabulous ratatouille for dinner last night, and then we ate the hell out of some ice cream. Noah climbed on my head at 6 am this morning and Baby Tivo is present and accounted for. We're heading back to the hospital now for what is sure to be a full wonderful day of cafeteria cuisine, weak coffee and inappropriate gallows humor from me.
My mother-in-law, meanwhile, who has been talking trash about how her boys were potty-trained by 12 months old since Noah's first birthday, will be handling that side of things today. It's like I had some master evil plan that is all coming to fruition, or something. I mean, it's a little more head-injury-ry than I would have liked, but still. HERE'S MY KID AND A COMPLETELY INADEQUATE SUPPLY OF DRY PANTS, HAVE FUN GOTTA RUN HA HA HA.