My Broken Boy

The Hubby didn't used to get weekends.  In fact, for the first 6 years of Little Lou's life, he worked just about every weekend.  That meant, of course, that as a family we didn't get weekends.  I worked a "regular" Monday through Friday job (off and on, between having babies), and he worked all sorts of ridiculous hours, varying from 1st to 2nd to 3rd shift, with random days off.

We've been relishing in weekends for the last year!  We still don't always get them, but usually we do.  When it's the weekend, we try to do at least one fun thing.  We try to make it a free thing, or at the very least, a super cheap one.  That's why, a couple weeks ago, we did this:

The church "denomination" (I'm not supposed to call it that) with which we are affiliated had a big convention 5 minutes from our house.  It was a national convention that brought hundreds of families together, right down the street!  We make it a habit to attend the evening services and as many conferences as we can, and on Saturday we try to make it to the Family Fun Day.  The last couple of years it's been full of bouncy fun.  The kids LOVE it!  We all have a great time.

I wish I could show you a billion pictures, because my kids had a blast.  I, however, took my camera and left my SD card in my computer.  How very disappointing!  I LOVE taking pictures of my kids smiling naturally! They ran from slide to slide, bounce house to bounce house, for over an hour.  (The boys did, anyway.  Little Lou was out of town with a buddy.)  They were having the best time!  My sister and her family were there, too, so the boys got a chance to run like maniacs with their little cousins.  The 4 boys were having a great time!

The Hubby and I followed the boys around, laughing and chatting and doing all the things parents do.  We talked about how our swingset is rusting through and we really need to take it down at the end of this summer because of safety.  (Anyone have a free swingset to give us?  My kids are going to be SO sad!)  We talked about how to replace it.  Should we get rid of the swingset entirely?  Rebuild the legs out of wood?  Replace it with a trampoline?  We'd sort of decided on saving for a bouncy water slide-y thing.  Maybe.

And then...

This is my nephew.  He's 7 weeks older than Stinky.  I wish I had a picture of Stinky on this slide, but alas, the memory card...  Anyway, this slide was big!  And Stinky is little.  He's just a smidge littler than this guy.  

But Stinky is a climber.  A daredevil.  He lives every. single. moment. of his life with wreckless abandon.  I can not tell you how much I admire that quality in the little guy...or how much it terrifies me.  In fact, from the day Stinky was 15 months old and I found him on the kitchen table...standing on the kitchen table...less than a week after he took his first steps...I've said that he'd be the first of my kids to break a bone.  So, Stinky the Wild decided he'd go down that big scary slide.  He really wanted to.  But he was scared.  I'll spare you the details, but he DID go down that slide.  One time.  That's all it took.  And then I heard many many screams and a chorus of, "I weddy go home!" and I knew something was terribly wrong.

Do you ever wish you'd been wrong?  Like, you know, maybe if I hadn't been saying for over a year that he'd break a bone, maybe he wouldn't have?  Or if I hadn't told The Hubby that morning to stop playing rough with the boys before someone broke something it wouldn't have happened?  Because people, I have wished a billion times these last two weeks that I could take back some of those words.  I know, I know, it wouldn't make a difference.  It would feel a little better to me, though, if I didn't feel like I'd been the broken leg prophet or something!

So this little "my do it," "I need cwimbing," boy had to be completely off that leg for an entire week!  It wasn't as hard as it sounds.  I don't know if he was in as much pain once he was splinted or if he was scared, but he didn't attempt to stand.  He was content to be cuddled and carried and loved on.  And then that bright red (or blue, if you ask him) cast went on and he was allowed to walk!  But he didn't.  For a week.  He kept on letting Mama carry him everywhere, and Mama was good with that.

You don't need to worry, though, people.  On Saturday, Stinky decided he was ready.  Have I told you about Stinky?  He's a daredevil.  A climber.  He lives every. single. moment. of his life with wreckless abandon.  I admire him, and he terrifies me.  You can't keep him down.  You can't hold him back from what he wants.  He's amazing.  And he's walking.  And he's doing this:

And this:

And today I caught him RUNNING across the living room.

So, for 2 more weeks...11 more days, actually, but who's counting?...my sweet little guy will have that bright red cast.  And for 11 more years I will worry every time he falls or climbs or twists the wrong way that we'll be on our way back to the ER.  But he'll survive because it's all he knows how to do.

Baby Boy, I love you!  I love you as big as the ocean and then some.  I love you like crazy.  Almost as crazy as you are!  I promise promise promise that I will hold you and carry you just as long as you want me to.  I will tuck you in my pocket and take me with you wherever you want to go with me.  I will be right beside you, even in the middle of the night (like the last 2 weeks) whenever you need me.  But then, I know some day you will figure out that you can do it on your own.  You'll want to get down.  You'll want to run.  You'll NEED "cwimbing."  And Baby Boy, as hard as it's going to be, I'm going to let you down.  I'm going to let you run and jump and climb.  I'm going to let you be.  Dream big, Baby Boy.  And never EVER lose your zest for life.  I admire it...and it terrifies me!