just doesn't show you what we went through. She fell, face first (obviously!) onto the corner of our stone hearth, and was bleeding so much that Lexi asked, when we got back from the dentist, if she'd had to have a blood transfusion. I retrieved the tooth from her mouth and put it in some milk, Chad got a hold of one of our local dentists, and we headed to his home. Between calls to Aunt Paula, and Dr. Dalley's advice, we decided to not try to put her tooth back in. It just would most likely be a lot of pain and trauma for nothing. The other front tooth is loose too, and I just hope it rights itself.
We'd been to Dr. Dalley's home on another Sunday night, two or three years ago, when Samuel knocked his front two teeth out on the trampoline. When we left, Dr. Dalley gave us the code to his front gate just, you know, in case. We do have 4 other children who still have front teeth.
We put a net up around the trampoline shortly after Samuel's incident. Do they sell bumpers for hearths? I think I remember seeing one on Trading Spaces once, but it was made of Weight Watchers Hungry orange fur. Doesn't really go with the decor, but if it saves my children's teeth, I s'pose I'm willing.
Things For Which I Am Glad:
Sage still likes baby cereal.
My kitchen tea towels were already red.
That Sage has big blue eyes and pretty blond curls that will distract from her dental imperfections for the next five, six years.
A sister-in-law and a mother-in-law who came at a second's notice to take my children so we could leave.
A father-in-law who combed his resources for our dentist's cell phone number.
An aunt who knows teeth and could give us direction before we could even get a hold of a dentist.
That Sagey is Motrin'd up and for the moment has quit saying "Owie," and opening up her mouth for me to kiss it better.
And especially, for a dentist who is willing to let us interrupt his Sunday evening, again, and attend to our mishaps.
At least Sagey has good timing. Whatever she is for Halloween, it will be scary.
Now, six months pregnant does not lend itself well to bending over and measureing the spacing between seeds. At all. And all my seed packets said to plant 1/4 to 1/2 inches deep. What the heck! Despite all of Chad's dutiful raking, my garden plot still looked like a well trodden beach. And I didn't see the rake anywhere. How am I supposed to get things uniformly 1/4 inch deep? I hoed my rows. Not with the point of the hoe, but with the flat side. I leveled out the row and flicked the excess dirt to the side. Then, I took handfulls of seeds and scattered them up and down the rows. I did this till all the seed packets were empty. (Oh, not the broccoli. I started them in six pack plastic containers because... you're supposed to, right?) The packets said I'd have to thin them out later anyway, and it's not like you can't eat that baby spinach or carrot or onion that you pulled. We might as well eat lots of it. Oh, and I also sowed carrots in the future brocoli row, because, carrots grow down, broccoli grows up, we might as well use all the space we've got, right? And my packet wasn't empty yet. Then I hoed the dirt back onto the rows, but realized I couldn't really tell where my rows had been, so I just shuffled all the dirt around a bit and tromped everything down. I figure that when the seedlings come up we will know where to arrange the irrigation lines. So anyway, if it's worth mentioning, I will tell you how it turns out. I may never space me seeds again. Then again, I may become a diligent spacer. We will see. At any rate, it will have been a learning experience. 
