Rite of Passage

Our news this week is interesting, at least: AJ has fractured his right arm. Years from now I might want to remember it (I guess?) and it probably deserves a spot in the proverbial online “baby book,” though I think the pages in traditional baby books run out before age 7. Anyway, he was playing, at home – he loves to try to do “frog-stand,” and maybe this was what he was attempting to do – and he fell off KT’s bed, catching himself with two hands and two stiff arms… one of which went, “Pop.” Auditorally, it was a small pop, like cracking a knuckle. But already in my memory of it (2 short days ago), it’s gotten louder and…crunchier. How does the brain do that?


I am leaving the office in 20 minutes to take him to the Children’s Orthopaedics. I am anxious to finally hear from a doctor myself, since DH is the one who got to take him to Urgent Care the other night, and he has taken the follow-up calls (“Yes, it’s a fracture, now commence with the appointment-making and referral-getting. Have fun!”). I hope we get some actual details. Remind me to ask for doctor’s notes for Jiu Jitsu (we’ll get a little money back) and what he can and cannot do.


AJ, himself, is mostly handling it well. His mean mommy and daddy have made him go to school anyway. He hasn’t said we’re mean, but I feel – surprise –guilty about it. But yesterday he managed, and his friends took good care of him. I went to the school at noon and saw them on the playground, playing “Walk-Tag,” a game I think they made up in his honor. The four of them came walking up to me in a posse, and his buddies took turns telling what he had needed help with. So cute. Of course my main worry was had he gone to the restroom??! How is a kid supposed to unbuckle a belt and unfasten hook-and-eye pants with one (left) hand, I ask you? (He told me later he just didn’t go… all day.) I guess we’ll all figure out a way.


At dinner and bedtime last night, he was kinda weepy. He doesn’t like the splint, of course, and wants it OFF. (He won’t like a cast, either, if that’s what he gets today.) And I suspect he’s a little worried about how he’ll have ANY fun for the next 6 weeks, if it takes that long. The prospect of not playing his DS or Wii (hard to do with only one hand), no regular tag at recess, no trampoline jumping at the neighbors’ (ever again!!! Says Mean Mommy), no jiu jitsu, no bouncing on beds (ever again), no Daddy-wrestling…. I mean, I understand for a 7-year-old boy, this is pretty devastating. He had JUST learned a front flip on the trampoline, too.


On the other hand (heh), we’ve already promised to buy him a new set of Pokemon cards, and… there will probably be extra trips to get ice cream in his immediate future.