We went to see husband's neuro regarding the onslaught of seizures he had Sunday and into Monday. He decided to send him for bloodwork to check sodium and Trileptal levels. Increased his Trileptal dosage. And ordered an MRI to make sure the remaining little cavernous hemangioma (how's that for a mouthful?) in his right temp. lobe hasn't grown (and could explain the seizures) since we don't really have any other possible cause other than saying it's idiopathic. So I led my darling dear to the lab to get poked. While he was in there, I called difficult child 1 at home to see if he was getting ready to leave on his bike to go to his violin lesson (he's never biked to it before and it's about 4 miles from home). Instead, difficult child 2 answers the phone and tells me his brother left 10 minutes ago, which means he left 25 minutes earlier than he needed to. So I call difficult child 1's phone and he answers. "Where are you?" I ask. "On the bus," he says a little breathlessly. "Why are you on a bus?" I demand to know. "Well, I crashed my bike and so I'm sitting here resting," he says. "What do you mean you crashed your bike?!!! Are you OKAY???!!!" I try to ask in my calmest, most non-freaking-out-mom-voice since I'm at least 15 miles away and can't really do anything to help him. So he proceeds to explain what happened, how he got his tire caught up in some drainage groove in a driveway he was trying to go up in order to go around this parked bus, and that's when he lost control and crashed. His elbow, hands, and knee were scraped and a little bloody, but other than that he thought he was okay. He said he would try to continue on to his lesson in a few minutes after regaining his composure (Now I'm thinking it was a good thing he left early afterall). I could hear the bus driver talking to him in the background, asking him where he was headed. His lesson happens to be a block or two from on of the bus's stops, so the driver offered to let him ride with his bike on the bus, for free. I could hear the surprise and appreciation in difficult child 1's voice at this man's kindness. This was a good lesson for him to experience. For some reason he got off the bus too soon (about 1/2 a mile or so) and he couldn't get his bike to move very far. Something was wrong with the gears and one of the brakes. So since husband and I had finished at the appointment, we told difficult child 1 to sit tight where he was and we'd be there in 20 minutes to collect him and take him to his music lesson. He was a little rattled, but I think he handled his little ordeal pretty well, and maybe this has built a little more character in him. We dropped him at his lesson, went to take his bike to the shop to get the gears and brakes adjusted, and grabbed a quick bite to eat (at which point the lense in my glasses suddenly popped out onto the table and the frame screw went flying). Collected him after his half hour was up, then went to the park the next block over to pick up easy child thirty minutes later at the conclusion of her day camp. husband must have been worn out because he went upstairs to take a nap when we got home!