Long weekends are the best and the worst. It's nice having an extra day off of the normal routine, but that's also an extra day for the house to fall apart. Seriously, how can ONE measly day produce THAT much extra laundry, THAT many extra crumbs, and THAT many extra dishes? The housework multiplies exponentially with each extra day tacked onto a normal weekend. As I'm typing this post, I keep dashing down to switch laundry loads, scrub toilets, punch down the bread, change the baby, etc. Lots of times it feels like I’m one wimpy mom vs Everything Else.
My messy house notwithstanding, we had a relatively pleasant, low-key weekend at home together. We had planned on taking a family adventure to the Grand Coulee Dam on Saturday, but the kids were recovering from sickness this week and we didn't think they'd be very cheerful on such a long day, so we stayed home. Instead, we played in the cousins' blow up pool on Saturday. We went on a family walk and to church on Sunday. We had a ward breakfast and a family dinner on Monday. The weather was warm and sunny. Pleasant, in spite of the accruing crumbs/dishes/laundry.
Then Jay broke his arm. Monday afternoon, we all went out to jump on the trampoline together (famous last words). I plunked Amber on a towel in the shade with some toys and the rest of us bounded and bounced on the trampoline like crazy folks. It was fun! Amber tipped over and started crying so I went to rescue her and ended up sitting in the shade with her because it was so cool and nice there (and because Jeff was doing his best to make me pee my pants by bouncing me hard on the tramp and I needed to step away before he succeeded). Problem: I forgot to zip the trampoline net closed again when I got off. I sat in the shade taking pictures of my wild husband and kids wrestling and jumping. The next thing we knew, Jay had fallen out of the unzipped opening in the net and was crying on the ground! We looked at his arm and had him wiggle his fingers and make a fist, etc, and it seemed sore but ok. A few hours later, Jay was STILL distraught about it and seemed in pain. I noticed a little swelling on his forearm too, but we thought we'd see how he felt in the morning. After about two hours of sleep, Jay wandered downstairs twice, kind of dazed and moaning about his arm. It looked more swollen, so we decided to take him in. I drove the lonely dark road to Prosser at 10pm with a sad, worried Jay in the back seat.
Half a dozen X-rays revealed a small fracture in Jay's forearm. They said that kids' bones often bend more than crack because they are still developing, so the X-ray didn't show a crack, more like a bump. After we put in our time waiting around, the cheery nurses bustled in and put a splint on Jay's arm.
We got home at midnight. Poor Jay was so tired and tragic! His sweet little lip kept trembling and tears leaked out every now and then. He felt better after some ibuprofen and the splint, thankfully. It's so hard to be a mom and watch my sweet child sit in the hospital--I'm used to being the one in the hospital bed! I had so many unpleasant flashbacks to my various pregnancies and hospital visits last night. Thankfully I kept a lid on them, but they were always there, tugging on the edge of my memory in an unpleasant way. PTSD, anyone? Ah!
Jay stayed home from school today and we're headed to the doctor for a referral to an orthopedic doctor so he can get a cast. We couldn't get an appointment with Dr. Weaver today, so I texted him this morning to ask what to do. He called me right back and talked me through it. I about wept after that, seriously. You'd think that more people in the medical profession--secretaries included--would be compassionate or at least act like they care! It was such a relief to hear his practical, reassuring voice tell me what to do. Maybe it's because of all the times he rescued me and talked me through my own health crises when I was pregnant, but it was SUCH a relief to have someone who I trust and who cares just TELL me what to DO! I didn't realize I was so stretched thin emotionally until I hung up the phone and felt that surge of relief. Sigh.
Time to learn how to eat left-handed!
Kids break their arms all the time. It happens. I broke my leg when I was ten. No big deal! But this was MY kid and also my FIRST kid to do it, and that makes it a big deal. Yet another humbling parental experience telling me that I'm just along for the ride. All we parents can do is our best, try not to stress, and then clean up the messes, over and over again.
