Bang Your Head...

Okay, so as promised, here is post numero dos. The subtitle should be "How We Spent Our New Year's Eve." We had gone down to Marion Square downtown to check out the free New Year's Eve festivities. Initially, we had fun running around in the park, and Nigel really liked the lights.








After walking down King St. to grab some dinner, we walked back up to hear a brass horn and organ concert at a church across the street from Marion Square. We had no sooner sat down , when Nigel took a plunge off the bench, hitting the corner of a hymnal rack on the way down. There was a lot of wailing, and a lot more blood. We ran back to a restroom to get some cold water on the cut and see how bad it was, and once we saw the damage, I went running for the car, which was parked about 3 blocks away. Anyone who knows me knows that running is not a normal part of my physical activity, but I made it to the car pretty quickly and drove back to the church, where Margaret was waiting with Nigel. He was no longer crying, thanks to a nice woman who had given him a cup of orange juice. The gash on his forehead was still pretty nasty though, so we drove to the nearest emergency room. It was almost an hour from the time we checked in until we were finally seen, and I really had to hand it to Nigel for keeping it together, even when we were freaking out. When we were finally seen by a doctor, it was determined that stitches would be necessary. Now came the fun part, which involved myself and two male nurses holding Nigel down while they administered the stitches. Yes, they did give him plenty to numb the pain, but that didn't mean the kid was going to be happy with a stranger messing with his forehead. It took all our strength to hold the little guy down. He's big for a nineteen-month-old, but...he's a nineteen-month-old. We managed to hold him down, got him home to bed, and the next day he looked like this...





He has already had the stitches removed, and we have been assured that the scar won't be bad at all. Nigel seems blissfully unaware that he sustained a head wound, which is just the way I hope to keep it. He even gained the respect of his older cousins, all of whom have made repeated ER visits. Nigel has joined the club. We knew stitches would happen at some point, we had just hoped that it would be later. Still, it could have been much worse.

We also visited the Festival of Lights after Christmas, and had a chance to recreate a photo from last year. Here's Nigel in January of 2007...



and in January of this year...



Man, that kid grew fast.

Christmas is the Time to Say...

Well, considering that it is now January 6, it appears we made it through the holidays relatively unscathed. I say "relatively" because, well, why don't we give that story its own blog entry. Today will be a "two-fer" and believe you me, the second installment will be worth it.
Christmas was a good time. I had to work from 8am to noon, but fortunately Nigel is not yet totally aware of what Christmas is all about, so waiting until I got home to open the presents was no big deal. As a matter of fact, the kid really took his time opening his gifts - he was still doing so on New Year's Day. He'd open a gift,



and immediately want to play with whatever was inside,



and so an hour or so later he'd open another.



When all was said and done, the kid made out like a bandit once again. He got a Radio Flier push car,



various trucks,



noisemakers and instruments,



and even a tent we found at IKEA.




Oh, and with mommy and daddy being ever hopeful, he also got a potty seat, which he promptly used, although not for it's intended purpose.



We also got Margaret's mother a Roomba robot (or as she says, "row-but") vacuum cleaner.



It was from all of her kids, and the thing is pretty darn nifty, it even knows when its battery is running low and returns to its charging station. My mother-in-law, who used to vacuum daily, now watches the "row-but" vacuum daily instead. She really seems to like it.

Prior to Christmas arriving, we went to the Charleston and Mt. Pleasant Christmas parades.



Nigel enjoyed both, despite the fact that his view of the Charleston parade largely consisted of this:



This large woman kept standing in front of him (he was in his stroller), and when she wasn't blocking his view, my father's wife was. He seemed to have a good time nonetheless. Like every other Christmas parade in existence, these events give just about anyone the chance to show off their holiday spirit, which brings me to my problem with these things. There are things that belong in a Christmas parade, and things that don't.
I found myself turning to Margaret and muttering "Nothing says Christmas like (insert inappropriate item here)." So, in honor of the dueling Christmas parades, here is a sampling of some of the best (worst?) selections.

Nothing says Christmas like The Family Guy. Sure, I'm a fan of the show, but Stewie doesn't exactly scream family friendly yuletide fun...



Nothing says Christmas like King Tut...



Nothing says Christmas like jackbooted paramilitary teenagers...



Nothing says Christmas like Popeye the Sailor Man on a shrimp trawler...well, blow me down...





Nothing says Christmas like a giant life jacket with a face...



Nothing says Christmas like a freakin' HEARSE. Merry Christmas, kiddies! Bring out your dead!



Nothing says Christmas like scary hobo clowns. The one on the left looks like a member of Insane Clown Posse. Happy holidays, Juggalos!



Nothing says Christmas like belly dancers. I actually had no problem personally with this entry, yaknowwhutimean?



Nothing says Christmas like a stork administering the "bad touch" to a baby. So, so wrong...



Nothing says Christmas like a TV lawyer waving a baseball bat with the word "Justice" carved into it. The fact that there is a kid riding along with "Extreme Akim" doing the same is even worse.



Nothing says Christmas like Batman...



Nothing says Christmas like a giant symbol of backward racist hatred. Hey rebel-folk, there is presumably a time and place for everything, including presumably a time and place to wave your giant Confederate flag. A Christmas parade isn't one of them. You lost the war, get over it.



Nothing says Christmas like The Jungle Book...



Nothing says Christmas like whatever the hell "Sippin' Sisters of the Hood" is...



Nothing says Christmas like a father and son team dressed as toilets....



Nothing says Christmas like Spiderman....



Nothing says Christmas like a bunch of idiots sitting on a parade float playing Wii...



Nothing says Christmas like an ice cream truck in December. I am almost able to let this one slide though, since it was nearly 80 degrees here the week before Christmas.



Nothing says Christmas like Mr. Rooter...



Despite the strange entries, we had a good time at both parades.

Oh, and on the home front, our house was delivered a couple of weeks before Christmas. It's still being set up, but we should hopefully be in by early February. Here are some photos of the day it was delivered.