I’ve said it before, and many of you probably think I’m exaggerating, but when they are giving out the Mother of the Year Award and they announce: “And the winner is…” my name will not be heard.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a good mom, I’m a great mom! We have fun together, and he fully believes that with the skills he has learned, he’ll be able to take care of himself when he is on his own. One of my favorite memories is when he was younger, probably about 6 or so, and he was at a friend’s house and his friend was supposed to be cleaning his room, and resisting. Travis told him “you have to learn how to clean your room or when you get older girls and friends won’t want to come over to your place because it is messy.”
It doesn’t get much better than that!
I have my faults, too. Lots of them! Today let’s focus on just one of them. Let’s discuss the fact that apparently I’ve become blasé about injuries. I think it is because we’ve had so many of them. Ever since he was little we’ve been members of the frequent flyer club at our local ER.
Let me give you a few examples: Eating glass, febrile seizure, broken radius and ulna that required surgery to repair cause he was showing off for a girl, getting hit by a car, and breaking his pinky finger while tossing the football around with a friend.
Don’t call CPS. They were all legitimate!!
The point is, if you had dealt with all of those injuries, plus trips that turned out to be minor issues, you’d be wary of issues. Pretty much any time anything happens, the rule is we wait. Wait and see if it’s really broken/ruptured/needs medical attention. This waiting period usually is accompanied by an ice pack.
So, back to my point! Monday I was in the kitchen and T was walking back to his room and all I heard was crash/aaggghhh/thud. I was racking my brain trying to figure out what he could have tripped over/stubbed his toe on. I came out and started giggling as Mr. T was on the floor writhing in pain (not the most sensitive reaction, I know!) I was trying to figure out what he had tripped over – he hadn’t. He was just walking and his ankle popped (the crash I thought was him stubbing his toe) and he shrieked in pain (the aaggghhh I heard) and fell to the ground (accounting for the thud part of the equation).
I sat with him for a bit, checked out the foot – it didn’t seem broken – and sent him on his merry way. Told him we’d monitor it. It gave him some pain to walk on, but still seemed minor. And really, if your foot pops so loudly I can hear it two rooms away, I expect it to hurt!
That night we went over to my parents for dinner since my sister and her kids were in town and my sis mentioned that it was a little swollen. I walked by, felt his foot and it was a tad swollen, but not warm, so I kept on walking.
Yesterday afternoon I was cutting Mr. T’s hair and saw his foot… swelled to the size of a grapefruit.
Yeah, I totally missed that. He had sprained his ankle. I immediately wrapped it and put an ice pack on it. After 30 minutes the ice came off and he got a break – and then my dad reminded me that it had been over 24 hours, so it was time to apply the heat. So, we went on the search for the heating pad and T sat with it elevated and with heat on and off the rest of the night.
Not all was lost, it was a dark and stormy night and we were watching an episode of Supernatural that happened to be in black and white and about old school Dracula and the Wolfman, so I popped us some fresh popcorn and we sat together and chilled.
Yes that happened; I totally missed the fact that my son really did tear one or more of the ligaments in his foot.