Breaking Two Limbs Does Not Slow a 9 Year Old Down

In the last two months I have taken my oldest child to the pediatrician's office four times, to the radiology center twice and the orthopedic surgeon's office five times. It has been a rough eight weeks and I am so glad that I am finally able to laugh about it all.
About eight weeks ago I left my husband in charge of the boys while I attended a function, when I came home that night Beckett told me that his right foot hurt really bad and he thought he was having the worst growing pains of his whole life (yes I tell him everything is growing pains.) so the next morning while he is getting ready for school I notice that he is limping around and I ask if he is okay his response was "Mom, I think that sock skate races weren't the best idea last night, I fell and slid into the wall. I think I hurt my foot bad." (Sock skating is the new extreme sport that has been made possible by the installation of 1100 square feet of hardwood floors) Now let's be honest I was pissed because I left Daddy in charge and it was 14 hours after the fact that I was finding out that one of the kids got hurt. I asked Beckett if he was going to be okay at school and he said he really wanted to go and that he would let me know if he needed me. The kid is a lot like me he is all drama over a paper cut but he doesn't really lose his cool when it counts. That afternoon when I got him from school he was walking like a caveman with a wedgie so I decided to take him to the Dr to get it checked out. We found out that Beckett had broken his foot in two places and they decided he was going to be in a boot for the next four to six weeks. He LOVED all the attention he got for about the first 24 minutes and then he wanted that stupid robot foot to go away. So three weeks go by and I got a phone call from the school nurse saying that Beckett was in the office and that I needed to come look at his foot before she would let him walk home. Insert eye roll here. What could he have done? He wasn't allowed to run, jump, hop or skip, he was only allowed to walk and really how hard is that? When I arrived in the nurses I was a little grossed out to see that Beckett's left ankle was now three times it's normal size and purple. Apparently the kid was being silly and missed the curb and fell when he landed his right booted foot smashed into his left ankle. It was a mess so back to the Dr. we went. This time there was no question that his ankle was broken and they sent us to the orthopedic surgeon's office right away. At the ortho's office I found out that they see this kind of thing a couple of times each year and it is always because a kid is doing more than they are supposed to be doing with an injury. They decided to put Beckett in a second boot and begin trying to teach him how to walk. This had to be the funniest thing I had ever witnessed, it was like teaching Robocop to walk. He was leaning forward because his center of gravity was so off. After about 30 minutes of trying to get him to walk like a human they decided to x-ray his foot and check on the status of the healing to see if maybe they could take him out of the right boot a little early so that Beckett could get around. When we found out that the foot was well on the way to recovery and that he could come out of the one boot early, relief is an understatement.
So now it has been eight weeks and Beckett is boot free, I have learned a lot too. One, the boot will leave marks all over your hard wood floors and require major scrubbing to get clean. Two, it is a damn good thing I wasn't with him for either of his injuries especially since I have on more than one occasion told the child that I would break one of his legs to slow him down. And finally, that two broken limbs do not slow a 9 year old down at all so the above threat really means nothing.

Basketball Diaries...

When you're a mom you do things that you don't really see yourself doing and you do it proudly, but you also do it with some reluctance because it is out of your comfort zone. My latest story begins yesterday, when my oldest child was telling me about how he is having a hard time at school with some of the kids and he needed help "fitting in". At recess everyday a group of boys play basketball on the blacktop and everyday they don't let Beckett play because they think he dribbles the ball like a weirdo (his words not mine) so he asks me if we could go get a new basketball.

Well, we walk into Academy and head to the basketball aisle where I am met by 8,000 basketballs that all look the same. We looked through balls for about 15 minutes and finally settled on the Spalding NBA ball that I originally picked up I might add but was told that he needed to feel others first before he made a decision. Dude it's a basketball not pants how different can they feel?

Skip to this morning, Beckett comes in and says to me "Since I have a new basketball, now you have to teach me how to really play basketball." I of course said "absolutely sweet boy" but in my head I am thinking "Crap, teach you how to play basketball? I maybe could teach you how to watch basketball, but to do that correctly I am going to have to teach you to drink and cuss first."

About 10:00 this morning the two of us are in the driveway, tennis shoes on and sunglasses ready. I asked Beckett to show me what he knows and he proceeds to slap the daylights out of the basketball and at one point he even hits himself in the face. I knew I had gotten lucky, I could at the very least teach him to dribble the ball and keep control. After about an hour and 750,000 laps in the driveway we had dribbling mastered. I was so proud of him and we were talking while we drank some water on the porch when he says to me "Wow Mom you are pretty cool and who knew you had a clue about basketball, I figured I would have to wait for Dad to teach me next weekend." 

Let's Begin...

I am what you would call a "Married-Single Parent". If you are wondering what that really means, well it means my husband travels a lot so when the shit hits the fan, I am the one to scrape it off the ceiling. Now if you had told me at 16 that at 32 I would have two sons, three dogs, a house, a job, pay all the bills and have a husband that is gone a big chunk of the week so I would be doing most of this on my own, I would have laughed at you and most likely told you were drinking more than you should. However, this is what my life has become and I love almost every single second of it. Hey every second can't be roses.


Beckett is my oldest and he is proud to say that I have let him live to see 9. Beckett is what my mother likes to call "pay-back-for-all-the-things-you-did-to-me-as-a-child" to that all I can say is that there is no way I was that difficult so he must be "pay-back-for-all-the-things-that-JOSH-did-as-a-child". To be honest, Beckett is a great kid and I wouldn't trade him for the world. He is caring and sweet and thinks I am a lunatic which is fine by me because let's face it, he is not far off. He would do anything for anyone as long as it made them happy and he will be friends with any and all because he doesn't want anyone to feel like they are an "outsider"

Then there is Gibson he is my baby and at the ripe old age of 6 he has already proved that sarcasm is the best way to deal with life. Gibson tells it like it is and doesn't mind if you do the same to him, in fact he prefers it. Gibson will make you work to show him you are worthy of his friendship but once you are his friend, he will be your friend for life. Gibson is a "Momma's Boy" and that is just the way I like it. He loves to sit with me and just hang out, he doesn't really need to be entertained or expect anything. Now the other thing you need to know about him is that he is "the mastermind" of most questionable activities that happen around here. He somehow has the ability to manipulate his brother and then make it look like he was not involved at all. We joke that Beckett will set the world on fire and Gibson will be right behind him with the matches.

So that is the beginning, just a little introduction to the family. We are, who we are and we invite you into our lives and into our craziness.

Love,
Kristin