Somehow Seaside Survived

Danger Girl, out for a spin on the Promenade at Seaside.
Many unsuspecting vacationers thought they were just out for a stroll on a cloudy August morning.

(cue foreboding music...)

Little did they know they barely escaped being mowed down by a pink Princess Huffy with rainbow streamers. At least the training wheels rattle so you can hear her coming!

Did you catch the absolute GLEE in her eyes as she sped up (doing her "magic trick") and whizzed past us? You might have missed it because of her extreme speed. Yes, we really had to run to catch up.

We are in trouble. Very soon. Capital T.

And on the Danger flip side... The Boy, perfecting his tricks. Guaranteed to make his mother's, grandmother's, and great-grandmother's heart skip a beat.

Ready or not....

As if the fact that my baby is going to kindergarten isn't enough, I'm supposed to pack an emergency kit with a comfort letter from home!! School supplies I can do. But this letter is my stumbling block. On top of the nostalgic waves of sadness and the worry that he'll be exhausted or annoying or bored or not have any friends, now I have to worry about a natural disaster and include just the right words from Mom and Dad IN CASE HE'S STUCK AT SCHOOL FOR THREE DAYS eating peanut butter crackers!!?!?!!!

(Deep breath)

Ok, I'll write the darn letter. I appreciate the school's emergency preparedness plan, and attention to detail. I just wish my heart was so prepared.

But we had a good, intentionally low-key weekend, trying to get the kids to bed at a reasonable hour for the last few days.

I had hopes for a big "Night Before Kindergarten" special dinner, and it wasn't what I envisioned, but it happened. He got the red plate

We made special peanut-butter brownies for dessert,

and he got to choose a special dinner. Considering he's Mr. Three-item Menu, I figured it would be easy-pizza or chicken nuggets. But a morning trip to Trader Joe's and a sample of ground-turkey sloppy joes with bbq sauce on flatbread, and he had a new favorite. It was messy, but they enjoyed it. The pictures don't do it justice. And he ate broccoli, so who's complaining?

Maybe it's my photography.

Have I mentioned that Bitty Girl likes brownies? I think this is her "Whassup, Dog?" pose?

Also, in true second baby style, she is tagging along on the first day stuff tomorrow, with her first day of daycare. I am surprisingly not stressed about that part. Hopefully that's because she's more adaptable and I'm less neurotic this time around?

Or maybe all my neurotic is used up on the Kindergarten beginning.

I just hope I don't sob uncontrollably at the door of his classroom tomorrow. The way I did myself in kindergarten.....

Some sort of record

This blog is about to be renamed: The Boy and his Injuries.

We had a first today. The first time his school called to say, "He's fine, but he had an accident, a collision with another child, and we think he might need stitches."
Of course it was the one day a week I'm at work. Twenty minutes away. Daddy rushed to school to wait while I left work, and I met them there. In true wonderful mommy style, I kissed him, and then immediately whipped out my cell phone to document it for the blog.

Crappy cell phone pictures don't do it justice, even close up. But those eyes! I swear he added extra pathetic for the photo.

What happened? He collided with another kid as said kid was running out of the bathroom while The Boy (he swears he was walking) was going in. Other kid is slightly shorter than The Boy, so I think the top or side of his head connected w/Boy's eyebrow and cheek.

So back to the ER we went--the same ER where he received one stitch behind his ear last August, after hopping on one foot right into a table. And remember he still has a SPLINT on his arm!
I wish I had a photo collage of each person's face (the triage nurse, the registration person, the medical assistant, and the physician's assistant) when they asked, "What happened to your arm?" right after they asked, "How did you cut your eye?" I think I have the "CPS Watch List" on my chart, especially when they realize we took him to a DIFFERENT hospital for the broken arm, and yet ANOTHER one for the broken collarbone 3 years ago.

Short story, it took four stitches to close up the gash that looks like a boxing injury in his right eyebrow, he was a trooper, I almost fainted while they were cleaning it out, and after three hours, one candy bar, one bag of Doritos, and an ice cream cone later (see his mouth in next photo), we were home. I predict a black eye by the weekend.
We love you Brave Boy!

Splinted

The mean green, slightly dirty and stinky cast is no more.
The Boy had his cast taken off today, only to be replaced with a much less cool brown splint. But at least he can take it off. Three weeks more in the splint and he should be good to return to all his dangerous activities.

Juan the cast guy didn't do much in the way of kid-friendly introductions, just wheeled this big saw over, put on his mask and fired it up. The Boy was a little scared but managed to be brave.






And there it is, after having the dirt and wood chips (yes, there really were wood chips inside his cast) washed off. He wouldn't let me take a picture of the dry skin, and chose not to save the stinky cast shell..



They cut off the cast, did another x-ray, and pronounced him splint-worthy. More like splinter-worthy, with all those wood chips in his cast. The doctor showed us the x-rays from today compared to May 5, and called it "remodeling," where the bone has just regrown over the spot of the fracture. Kids are amazing--in three weeks, he said we won't even be able to tell there was a fracture.

We're a little nervous that the splint isn't restrictive enough, like maybe they should have left the cast on for two more weeks. But he's supposed to use it and stretch it at home, just being careful not to fall. His arm is even skinnier than it was before, and it's pretty weak. He preferred the splint on this evening, saying it felt too weird and weak when it was out.

He was so excited to take a bath tonight, although he instinctively set his left arm up on the tub's edge until I reminded him he could get it wet.

He has handled this whole broken arm thing in such a grown-up way, really hasn't fussed or complained about it at all. Not playing t-ball was really hard for him, and at school he's sad about not riding bikes in the gym or climbing on the playground toys. But he knows that another injury means a cast for most of the summer, and somehow he has miraculously grown up to the point where he can understand what that means.

Worried mama just hopes he can really be careful. I always worry, you know.

Mean Green Casted Machine

Monday update: The cast is on, in all its glory. Thank God is all I have to say. I am exhausted from worrying about him in that splint. He went back to school today--hope the cast is still intact.
The Arm during a Weekend Unveiling (it was never very swollen)


Fish Lips pose with his splint (especially for Nanny)

Cast Day
Step 1: Lovely cotton sleeve to soak up the sweat and get all stinky over the next 4 weeks

Step 2: Wrap with white fiberglass wrap - they dip this ace-bandage type thing in water and it's flexible enough to wrap for a few minutes until it dries. The guy was a super fast casting expert!

Step 3: The cool part - wrap with GREEN cast stuff. He got to choose his color! Notice how The Boy took this very seriously. He has been amazing through the whole thing, actually.

Step 4: Pose for picture with awesome green cast! At least indulge silly Mommy with her camera! But you have to admit he's darling!!!

One Little Monkey

It was the monkey bars. The Boy had finally conquered them, and could swing all the way across. Then Thursday afternoon, one bad jump and one big thump. Monkey bars 1, The Boy 0 (zero meaning one broken arm).

Much crying, but calmed down after some ice, and actually went to dinner and home and bed. Friday morning we decided the small bit of swelling plus the anticipation of Saturday swimming and Sunday t-ball warranted a visit to the doctor. X-ray confirmed that we're not such worry warts after all.

You can barely even see it below, thanks to the bad scanning. But it's there. If I had Photoshop, I could draw an arrow pointing to the little bump that's not supposed to be there. The bump on the right side of the picture, near the top of his radius (the big bone) just before it goes into his wrist. The bump is more noticeable on the original picture.


He's ok, not in much pain, splinted for now, with a cast (says he'll choose green) coming on Monday. More photos coming, although the actual wrist isn't that spectacular.

Mama will feel better once he's casted. Watching him wave that thing around just makes me crazy. I went in to check on him tonight after he fell asleep, and he was seriously DANGLING his left arm off the edge of the bed. Slight heart attack and some repositioning. Now I'm worried he'll knock himself silly in his sleep when he gets the heavy cast on.

T-ball: a window on the world

The Boy has started t-ball. He could start at 5, even without being in kindergarten yet, and his team is mixed with first and second-year players. He's taken a few community center music and gymnastics classes, and a non-competitive soccer skills class, but this is his first real "team."

We have definitely stepped into a microcosm of society, this thing they call Little League. It's a big league, with about 800 kids playing all the way up to what they call "Majors." No pressure there. Fancy fields, complete with required parent fundraisers and elaborate concession stand. Must get gray baseball pants, cleats, no cup required yet (YET? THIS IS T-BALL!!!), have mitt and bat, decide on batting helmet later.

A few practices and two games later, and he loves it. Whew. Don't mind the tongue. That's just his usual photo pose for the last, oh, YEAR!



With our "slow to warm up" boy who hates new things, I was afraid we'd be dragging him to the field. He is definitely not the fastest kid on the team, and since half of them played last year, he's running to figure things out, but he's having fun. His coach is wonderful, very encouraging and fun, without the pressure I was fearing. Some of the kids are already friends, and several go to the neighboring school, where The Boy will go in September.

Watching him practice is like a workout for my heart. I don't want him to get embarrassed if he doesn't know something or can't throw as far as the other kids, or puts the batting glove on the wrong hand, or isn't the fastest kid on the team. Trying to watch him (and, at one practice, chase Bitty Girl) and meet the other parents leaves me exhausted.

I wonder how much of my anxiety he can feel? He's so much like me, and while I'm trying to look encouraging and positive, I'm afraid he can see me worry. I honestly don't care if he's the best hitter or the fastest runner--I just don't want him to feel frustrated.

Sometimes I think he'll do better if I'm not there, projecting my worries onto the field. He hasn't quite figured out yet that Daddy is a much better t-ball parent, since he can coach first base and help you put the catcher's equipment on. All Mommy does is cheer and send weird vibes.