Injuries in Threes
Fresh off an excellent week away in sunny Florida, I had high hopes for our Monday.
We were recharged, tanned, and excited to get back to school/work/house/life.
High, high hopes. Too bad things went to sh*t so fast.
At 11:30 that morning we had a scary high chair mishap that resulted in Finn’s first big fall, complete with huge forehead bump. It happened so fast I couldn’t stop it, even from 6 inches away. He’s fine, was laughing and playing five minutes later, but I’ll be affected by the memory for a good six months I’m sure. And he’ll be sitting in a big boy chair from here on out I think.
After nap, that same day, we picked up Ethan from school and headed to the park with some school friends. Not more than 15 minutes later, on my way down the play structure steps with Finn on my hip, I rolled my ankle and fell. I managed to protect Finn but my foot was a ball of white hot flaming pain.
The irony? I had gone up the structure after Finn to “make sure he was safe” and then carried him down because a kid showed up with a soccer ball and “it was safer” to play ball on the ground. This was 10 seconds before I fell and almost dropped him.
I somehow walked to the car and got us home—adrenaline rush I guess—because as soon as we were secured in the house I was on the ground, blinded by the lightening shooting through my right foot. I shed a few tears, so Ethan took it upon himself to use the emergency procedures we’ve practiced, grabbing my phone to call “Dad”. It was unnecessary, but I was so proud he knew what to do to help. Even if it turns out he called MY dad, not Stu, “because I saw D-A-D on the star list! That spells Dad!”
Kind of forgot he’s learning to read. We’ve made some name changes in my contacts list.
By some scheduling miracle, the next day was a work day for me, meaning our nanny was here. She took Ethan to school and me to Urgent Care. She walked Finn around the block and fed him snacks while I had x-rays.
And I found out I BROKE my freaking foot.
I’m fine, there isn’t even that much pain—as long as I didn’t put weight on any part of my foot other than the very back part of my heel. Urgent care hooked me up with some crutches to get me around until today, when I could get into see an orthopedic specialist.
And that’s where I got Das Boot.
The least sexy footwear ever.
It’s hot, heavy, and makes scratchy velcro noises when I walk.
But I CAN walk—even if it’s more of a hobble—so I’m actually kind of in love with it. Pain was minimal today so I even drove Ethan to gymnastics (with the boot removed of course) and I’m pretty thrilled to be functioning again.
I’m trying not to think about missing out on walks to the park in the gorgeous spring weather. Or bike rides. Or working out. For six weeks. But at least it’s not summer and we have no trips scheduled till June.
And after seeing the people coming out of the ortho center, I know it could have been SO much worse.
This is just an incredibly annoying injury.
I was kind of waiting for the next thing to happen, since stuff like this tends to happen in threes…silly superstition I guess. But when Stu brought Ethan home from gymnastics tonight with a HUGE black and blue bruise on his forehead, I wasn’t surprised. He tripped and smacked his head on the balance beam. In true kid fashion it will probably healed by tomorrow.
Here’s hoping this is the end of our injuries…
Thanks for all the texts/calls/emails! We’re all fine but appreciate the love.