Since the twins were infants, people have been asking us how we tell them apart. Brian's standing joke is "They're Taylor boys... they'll have scars soon. That's how we'll tell them apart". ...Not so funny today.
On a very sad side note, Brian was in Illinois for his grandfather's funeral this weekend. His passing was not unexpected, but it was still very sad. I felt terrible not being there but it was just impossible. I didn't feel like I could make the trip with, or leave the children behind right now. So, Brian was returning from a very long, and what had to be difficult, weekend trip.
I was putting some things into the van and talking to my mom on the phone. Danny came barreling toward me (we always joke about how he runs head first... again, less funny right now). He tripped and took a header. He hit the van door hard. I knew he was hurt right away, dropped the phone, and picked him up. Then I saw the blood. I was yelling, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" My mom heard this and (she and my dad say) started yelling "Oh my God!" (My dad asked what was wrong and my tearful mom said she had no idea but that's what I was yelling... You may need to really know us to see this play out, but it was ridiculous and very sweet... the way we operate.)
I grabbed Danny and ran upstairs for ice and something to put pressure on his wound. My parents both arrived in less than 2 minutes. (LOVE living so close to my parents, LOVE how I didn't need o ask them to come, LOVE them in general.) My dad and I knew right away he needed stitches (since we were pretty much looking at his skull... Seriously, there was white. Sorry to gross you out, but it's true). So we got him into a car seat and my mom got into the front of my van to drive us to the ER (while I applied pressure to his little FACE). In a moment's time it had been decided that my dad would take Brian's van, pack up Matt, pick up Kirsten from church (CCD), and pick up Brian at the airport. I love my parents. What would I do without them??
Mom, Danny, and I headed to All Children's ER. It was as positive experience as it could have possibly been. We were in the waiting room less then 10 minutes. Danny played a video game (yes, a video game for a 2 year old... He thought it was awesome). We were triaged and in a room right away. A happy, private little ER room. We had excellent nurses (who Danny immediately wrapped around his little finger) and a great doctor.
The wound was cleaned, Child Life experts visited with toys, and a nice, numb Danny played and played.
(I have very adorable videos of Danny singing Nursery Rhymes in our room... We had to really work to keep him somewhat calm once he was numb! ...I'll try to add them to this post eventually but that never seems to work for me...)
He was SO brave. He really didn't cry much at all until being stitched up. It took 4 of us to hold him down. Man, that little guy is strong! At one point I asked him if it hurt or if he was scared. After that he kept crying and yelling "I scared!" It was heartbreaking. But, I desperately tried to help hold him down. I did not want him to be sedated after the trauma of holding him down! (He and Matt both had a hard time coming out of the sedation after their surgeries. not medically, that went fine, but I thought it was hard on them.)
Four stitches and a band aid later, it may become easier to tell the boys apart. We are going to do everything we can to minimize the scarring, time will tell... The power of a cool band aid is amazing (and the ice cream Mimi bought didn't hurt the healing process either!)
My sweet, brave boy, I love you... and I wish I didn't somehow let you get hurt every time Daddy leaves town!
(On another side note... look at me doing the "sad" part! No passing out, no throwing up... I don't know about you, but I'm pretty impressed with myself ;)