Just another manic Monday

We've been having a string of interesting-type Mondays around here. I'm thinking I'm about ready for dull and boring again.

T1's contribution to "interesting" came two weeks ago in the form of an unplanned flying leap off our brick mailbox. He says he was getting ready to sit down on the edge so he could scoot off, but he tripped. Fortunately, he tripped in the direction of the yard, as opposed to landing himself in the middle of the street.

I was inside fixing supper, and – after listening for a while to the yelling from the front yard – was headed out to tell the boys to be a little quieter, or people were going to think they were hurt. Um, duh, mom, he WAS hurt. And yes, the whole street knew about it before long. I met several new neighbors that day…not that I had enough presence of mind to remember them and their names when it was all over!

Turns out, the fall off the mailbox broke both bones in T1's forearm. My husband wasn't home yet – as a matter of fact, he was on his way to the school board meeting where they were going to recognize his team for their win at state. He didn't get to go to that board meeting. After several calls that went to voicemail and finally a text saying "emergency," he came racing home to assist. I would have sworn at the time that it took a good 45 minutes for him to finally get there, but the truth was closer to 20. It just seemed forever, since I had one kid screaming his lungs out in the front yard, and another crying her eyes out inside the house (since she kept getting shut in when I went out!). The middle child was unusually quiet, which I chalked up to the fact that she was watching a DVD, but later realized probably had more to do with the fact that she was getting sick to her stomach again.

Once my husband got home, I was able to settle my brain down long enough to figure out that a couple of wooden spoons would work to make a splint, using the bandages that a dad down the street had brought to us, and we were able to get T1 off the ground and into the car, headed for the ER. I fed the girls, then dropped them at Grandma's so I could get to the ER myself, where I discovered he wasn't going to need surgery. (WHAT? SURGERY?!? That hadn't even occurred to me, thankfully!)

A couple hours later, we were home with a goofy boy turned super-friendly on Lortab. A couple days later, we had him safely bound up in a cast. A couple of days ago, I caught him climbing around on the OUTSIDE of the second level of our play fort in the backyard. That broken arm sure didn't slow him down for long. I think I'm glad…I want him to be a typical boy. I don't want him to be super-careful all the time, and afraid of falling.

I'll just hope that he stays in one piece from now on.

And I'll probably move faster next time I hear screaming coming from the yard.

And I'll keep those wooden spoons ready to go for the next splint!