The First, But Certainly Not the Last.

Thursday, September 4, 2014. First broken bone of one of our boys. I know it won't be the last, and in a way I was kind of expecting something "big" -- stitches or a broken bone. But, it was still unnerving and broke my heart.

We noticed on our way home from the lake for Labor Day that my car was making a weird squealing sound when in idle. It's only five months old, so it didn't seem right. Driving carpool that week, I heard the sound again, so Buck and I decided I should take it into the Toyota dealership.

Thursday morning, Buck waited around to take Fawn to school, while Small Fry and I headed to the dealership. As we passed Academy Sports and Walmart, I was making a mental errands "to-do" list of the things I could get done on the way home. Then my plan was to take Small Fry on a trip to the zoo. The best laid plans, as they say.

We waited awhile, with Small Fry engaged in Fawn's Kindle and the grown-up water bottle I gave him. At about 8:05 I saw them pull my car around and was so ready to leave. We waited and waited and waited some more. About thirty-five minutes later, we were still waiting -- for a car that had already been worked on. I decided that maybe they forgot about us and needed to go ask. I stood up from these short, plush chairs, and Small Fry leaned over and just kept falling, kind of doing a somersault. It was not a hard or high fall. But, he started screaming. And, he has a pretty high pain tolerance so that was worrisome. I picked him up and cuddled him and walked him outside to ask about the car, figuring that he would calm down. Calm down he did not. He got more and more frantic. I was told that yes, indeed, my car was done but that they didn't have anyone around to do the discharge paperwork. Remarkably -- certainly it had to be the grace of God -- I stayed very calm and polite. I told them that I had to go and that I thought Small Fry was hurt. About five more minutes later, Small Fry was still screaming and a nice mechanic explained that they couldn't find anything wrong with my car. I thanked him and quickly left -- calling Buck to tell him I thought Small Fry had a broken bone. Under his advice, I called the pediatrician to determine where I should take Small Fry.

We ended up at the pediatrician's office (certainly a better spot than the ER). Small Fry was beside himself. We were quickly seen, and the poor guy was just so upset. Dr. Hardwick came in to examine him and easily moved his arm around -- stating that while he thought it was probably a collarbone, he didn't feel like it could be because Small Fry was letting him move it around so much. The X-rays (oh, the X-rays, I cannot even go there; needless to say, Small Fry and I were both in tears) showed a clean break through the collarbone. Dr. Hardwick gave me copies of the X-rays for Doc, who was insistent that we get Small Fry wrapped up and immobilized. The nurses tried and tried but Small Fry was too worked up to cooperate.

So upset about the wrap as we tried to leave the pediatrician's office -- I was afraid he was going to hurt himself because he was reaching with his broken arm to try to unfasten the wrap. So I unwrapped him for the ride home.

In a daze at home -- just wanted a cool, wet wipe on his shoulder.

Daddy came home to check on him and got him wrapped up. What a blessing that he was able to get some rest. Doc came that evening to look at the X-rays and get him wrapped up really well.

The first forty-eight hours were really tough. He was in so much pain and cried during every movement. Diaper changes were especially rough. We stayed on top of the pain around the clock. He slept only when truly exhausted -- the sweet boy just couldn't get comfortable. We watched Disney Junior to make it through the long nights. Small Fry slept in the master bedroom nine nights, while Buck got the boot upstairs. We put the bed rails on the master bed so he couldn't roll off. I stayed with him, of course. It was exhausting and also so hard because I really couldn't comfort him with physical touch. I'm a cuddler and a snuggler and just wanted to embrace him to show my love. 

The weekend, we sent Buck and Fawn to the farm, and we had lots of visitors at home (Mimi, Lulu, Aunt C and Aunt Allison). He was feeling better, though still sore and way off schedule. We had lots of laughs as he figured out how to play with one arm.

Sitting or laying on me was the extent of our snuggles.

Opening a Pez dispenser with his feet.

Trying to get some rest.

Lulu brought some cute tattoos.

I could just eat him up -- until I got close enough to smell him.

That smile -- oh how I love him.

After the weekend, getting back to real life was hard. Small Fry was terrified to ride in the car -- I'm sure the car seat wasn't comfortable! He didn't leave the house with me for a week. We were cooped up and bored. We were utterly exhausted and grumpy. And we were just spent -- Small Fry didn't understand his physical limitations and it was killing me to tell him no way too many times a day. 

This is what happens when you've already said no 100 times before breakfast and give in to giving your two-year old a Vitamin Water. (PS: Check out the cute Mickey bandaid on his shoulder -- sweet thing needed a bandaid for his boo boo.)

I am happy to report that Day 10 we truly turned the corner, with Small Fry back on a schedule and back to his usual activities. We are still limiting his activity until the four-week mark, but as for this injury, we have made it through the worst. I know there will be more, but I can't protect them from everything. 

Small Fry continues to use the situation to his advantage: "I can't [say please] because I have a broken shoulder." I'm just happy my sweet stinker is feeling better.

End of iSummer.

Another round of sidewalk chalk paint.

So much fun to make.

And to paint with.

Play time with cousin Drennen.

Pops and I picked up this awesome Optimus Prime costume at Sam's. I couldn't resist.

The muscle suits own me.

So Buck was driving home from a week long trial that ended in a defense verdict. No fun to begin with. Then I called him and told him this happened. A tree fell and knocked the power lines off our house. We still had power but we had live lines in the backyard. Buck sent the boys and me to my parents' house for the night while he stayed up ALL NIGHT LONG with the power guys. Saturday he fixed the fence. He needs a medal -- he's a trooper.

On Fawn's first day of school Small Fry went for a walk with me -- this is his nature collection.

Stop and smell the daisies. 

Perfecting the selfie. Love him so.

Thursday, August 28 brought another tough bout of croup for this sweet boy. It was not a good health day in our house. The morning started off normal -- Small Fry was a little snotty but nothing bad at all. No fever, acting normal. I started our prescription medicine that I give him when he gets runny in hopes of preventing croup. After putting him down for an early nap, I got a phone call from BWF -- Fawn had another headache (his second migraine at school since school started, his sixth migraine overall since school started). Luckily, Lulu was able to come sit with Small Fry while I got Fawn from school. We just rested during the afternoon, watching movies and hanging out (and hoping the boys would feel better). I could tell at bath time things were headed downhill for both of my loves. I put them in a "shower bath" to get them clean and steamy to help Small Fry's congestion. I started Small Fry's humidifier. As soon as they were out of the bath, Fawn's migraine came on with a vengeance. It was time for Loratab and sleep. Small Fry was already having trouble catching his breath so I sat him upright in the glider while I got Fawn medicated, comfortable, and asleep. By this point, Small Fry was struggling. I called our pediatrician who referred us to Children's South and called Buck who was not home from work and a meeting yet. As soon as Buck got home, I headed to Children's South with Small Fry. They were a dream -- what an awesome emergency clinic for little ones. They saw us immediately. Small Fry got so worked up getting weighed (I know, so stressful for me too!) that he puked red Gatorade all over the place. I apologized over and over to the precious nurse tasked with cleaning up. They took his oxygen, got us in a treatment room, and listened to his stridor. They quickly ordered a breathing treatment and steroids. Small Fry lost his mind. This picture was taken after we survived his treatment. The sweet nurse who attended to us got back in his good graces with orange Gatorade and goldfish.

The constant oxygen monitoring about sent this little fella over the edge. But he finally fell asleep. They had to watch him for two hours after he received the treatment. If he didn't improve, we were going to have to get admitted, but thankfully the treatment and medicine worked. He's back to normal now except for the "roid rage" hangover he experiences after these steroid treatments. WOW is all I have to say! So very thankful for amazing care and the Great Physician who has faithfully guided us through these scary spells.

Lulu and Doc were able to use two Russell cabins at Lake Martin for Labor Day. We had a cabin to ourselves -- it was precious, we enjoyed great weather, and the boys just loved our weekend at the lake. Lots of swimming, boating, and playing with dogs. It felt like a true mini-vacation.

We are looking forward to next summer at Lake Martin when Lulu and Doc's new lake house is finished. I'm sure our water-loving boys will make great childhood memories there.