Not Your Typical Trip to the Park

All stitched up

It's a good thing I like adventure.
It's a good thing I don't freak out at the sight of blood.
It's also a good thing an adrenaline rush gives me mad biking skills the likes of which I never knew I had until last night.
I decided to take the boys to the park.  It was a nice day and Marcus wanted to ride his bike so I loaded up Bean and Lando in the Chariot and we were off.  The park is a little over a mile away with several short but steep hills along the way and we got there without any incident.
After awhile we decided to try out the teeter-totter thing.  Marcus was on one end, standing on it while holding on to the handlebars.  Suddenly he decided to be very un-smart by letting go of the handle bars, launching him headfirst through the air, and landing on his head on the metal beam connecting the two ends of the teeter totter.
Marcus fell to the ground and instantly the blood began to pool beneath his head.  I carefully tried to figure out where all the blood was coming from, expecting to see a huge gash across the top of his skull.  Luckily only a small hole on top of a giant goose egg was the cause of all the bleeding.
Soon I was surrounded by other overly-concerned parents who were trying to be "helpful" by saying things like, "Marcus, can you feel your toes?  How many fingers am I holding up?  Somebody call 911!"
Someone gave me a towel to stop the flow of blood while I frantically tried calling Randy's cell over and over and over, hoping he was on his way home.  Unfortunately he never answered.  (insert swear word here, not that I said it, I just thought it would be appropriate)
Once I realized Marcus was crying more from the fear of getting stitches, I realized we just needed to go home and clean him up before taking him to the hospital.  So I did the only logical thing I could think of.  I loaded Marcus and Bean into the Chariot and stuffed Lando on top of them.  Marcus held the bloody towel in one hand and the cell phone in the other.
"Keep calling Dad and when we go over a bump hold onto Landon or he's going to fly out!"  I commanded.
We were off like a herd of turtles.  Did I mention the Chariot holds two passengers, not three?  This is also where I need to mention that Marcus weighs 55 pounds, Ethan weighs 45, and Lando weighs 25 pounds.  You don't need to do the math to know that was one over-loaded stroller.
I made it up the first hill with lungs and legs on fire, thankful for a short stretch of flat before the next steeper hill.  As we approached the bottom of the next hill I tried to gain as much speed as possible and quickly shifted into my lowest gear.  I stood up, stomping on the pedals, barely able to pedal as the Chariot literally pulled me backwards.  I stomped harder, grunting with exertion, praying we'd continue moving forward, and finally we made it to the top.  I wish I had timed us because I'm pretty sure we got home faster than it took us to ride there.
I pulled us into the driveway and what do you know?  Randy's car was sitting there.  He had been home the entire time!  He left his phone in the car.  (insert swear word)
But all is well.  Randy cleaned up Marcus while I caught my breath and then we were off to the ER where Marcus got stitched up.  The hole in his head was big enough to stick my pinky finger in a good half-inch.  He never cried and that completed our second trip to the ER in three weeks.
Life is always an adventure with three boys.