Last week was a memorable one. We had a 12th birthday, our first Pennsylvania "recognition ceremony" for my oldest who is moving up to Jr. High (sniffle), the last day of school and a broken wrist.
Quite a mix of events.
The broken wrist caused quite a stir, especially since it wasn't advertised when it occurred. We were watching my oldest son's baseball game, enjoying a beautiful evening while the little kids played on the playground nearby.
Sometime during the game my younger, more adventurous son decided to go up the slide. In our family this is a no-no. In our yard, with just my munchkins, I don't mind. But at a playground, where there needs to be some semblance of order or kids will get hurt, I stick to the rules. The rules being:
UP a ladder, DOWN a slide.
It's boring, but it works.
When my son went up the slide, he was near the top when a little boy was starting to come down the slide. Someone had to go; there was no other way. My rambunctious son decided to abandon ship, and jump off the side.
He knew right away he hurt himself. What he didn't want was ME to know he hurt himself. And so the kids formed one of those pacts, the kind where they all pitch in and try to fix something without saying a word to any adults. Obviously, this didn't work and eventually I heard about the incident. Trouble was, without tears and any major fuss, I went about my night as usual.
We ate birthday cake and opened gifts for my oldest. I gave my little guy ice, but that was pretty much it. We assumed he sprained it, or he was just tired and ready for bed.
The next morn, I had one of those funny feelings that I should check this wrist out. He was holding it funny and had trouble dressing and getting on his shoes. My little guy is not one to drag out minor injuries, and my gut told me to call the doctor.
And sure enough, it was broken. I give him credit for taking the pain so well, but told him the next time he is hurt I would appreciate a shout out. Just in case something actually requires medical attention.
I end with this, UP a ladder, DOWN a slide.
While I may be redundant and boring and annoying with all my little rules and reminders, sometimes I know a thing or two. Maybe, just maybe my kids will remember that.
I'm not holding my breath.