Competing for Time and Fingers

OK, I know I've got a lot of catching up to do. Birthdays, Thanksgiving, etc etc. Would you believe that facebook has sucked up my usual blogging time? AUGH! It's fantastic and devious all at the same time. So, if you haven't already looked me up and made a friend request please do. You can look me up either under my married or maiden name. I've moved all of my profile information there which is only accessible to people I know.

I have several posts in the works that I am going to backdate once I have them done so please stay tuned! In the meantime let share a quip about Elle.

I had worn my wedding ring to church. It really shouldn't be something mentionable and that's got a story too. First the background. A couple weeks after Ethan was born we were going to take family pictures. I wanted to wear my wedding ring for the picture and against my better judgment and swollen fingers I forced it on over the knuckle.

No sooner than it was on did I realize my mistake. The nature of arteries and veins is such that blood will flow into, but not out of a digit that has compression around it. My finger began to swell. I tried soap, butter, oil but soon I realized that as my finger was swelling that if the ring was forced off the same way, much of my skin would come with it. I wanted to call the fire department. Michael thought he could handle it himself and got his dremel out. The dremel didn't cut but rather heated up the metal. So I sat with a glass of ice water and when I couldn't take the searing heat from the dremel to gold friction I doused my finger in the water. The ring was not cutting and my finger was starting to turn purple.

Michael finally relented and let me call 911. Two firefighters showed up in their little paddy-wagon with a tool specifically designed for cutting off rings. It looked very similar to a can opener. The firefighters got my ring off, but I still have a scar from Michael's failed attempt with the dremel.

So back to the story about Elle. She noticed my ring and was fascinated by it. I also showed her where my scar tissue was all red and irritated from wearing it. The next morning she came into the bathroom while I was in various stages of getting ready for the day, crying and panicked. She put a washer onto her finger like a ring and it was starting to swell. She had slipped it on and could not get it off. I had flashes back to my own ring being cut off. Only this washer ring was 1/2 inch from her finger to the outside edge and about a 1/16 inch thick.

Michael ran to the garage and got a pair of snipers and tried to cut through this metal washer. The first time he placed the snipers over it he got part of her skin caught in. AUGH, NOOOOO!!! He hadn't put his contacts in yet. I helped him place the snipers over the washer and avoid her skin. He pushed the handles together with all of his might. Michael is a very VERY strong man. I imagine this strength is heightened under duress. Though he heaved against the metal it would not cut.

Rather than waste precious time with possible injury in a do-it-yourself gone wrong I ran to get the phone and call the fire department and save my daughter both her finger and any scars. Michael tried the washer again and it slipped off her finger. Strange. It didn't look like the snipers budged it at all. Coming off an adrenaline rush ...not my favorite way to start the morning. Thankfully, though, it was with happy fingers.