Mimi broke her arm about a month ago, just before Easter weekend. In the olden days, I’d have immediately reported such a dramatic occurrence. Life is no longer me reporting my daily travels and travails with my toddler children, tho. We are now in full-on, elementary school and full-time work mode.
It seems insane to me, our schedule. Evenings are quick and condensed — homework, girls dinner, occasional baths, bed. They’re usually down by 9-9:30. I frequently fall asleep with one of them. They are really warm and nice to snuggle with.
So, Mimi was schlepping something down a flight of stairs, and this something was probably larger than her if past behavior is any indication. She missed a step or something and toppled and broke the ulna bone in her left arm. I hate the sound of children falling down the stairs. Hate. She was howling, poor dear.
Horrible as it all was, I can’t say I’m surprised. Though probably would have expected Beenie to be the first broken bone, as she’s a bit more careless than Mimi. They both take crazy risks. It was only a matter of time.
I think this was an important opportunity for both girls, this broken arm. Because after a while, a parent’s endless lecturing about what not to do turns into a Charlie Brown drone and kids just don’t believe they are breakable. Mimi now has a real experience to base future risk behavior on, which is not something my husband and I can provide for her. I’m glad it wasn’t her cute little neck.
The fabulous pink cast she was outfitted with seemed to give her super powers, or maybe it was the ridiculous amount of attention this beautiful, broken-pawed child received. She seemed stronger and more present the past month and a half than I’ve ever seen her.
Cast was fully signed and then removed this past Monday. She’s got a not-so glamorous navy removable brace that continues to protect her still healing bone, but at least I can wash that stinky arm. I missed lefty. She’s back!
Poor little monkey.
It is true that the “be careful, you might fall” just gets a snapped “No, I won’t.”
Ah, but you might, darling. And now you know.
Sad, though. Better, I think, at almost seven than at three. So she chose an excellent time. Wise, Mimi. Wise.
Snuggling elementary schoolers is delightful. Wish mine let me.
I know I wished mine would let me snuggle, but I wasn’t saying I wished mine would break a left arm and then snuggle. But he did. And does.
It’s nice, him feeling vulnerable and wanting to be physically reassured. Sorry they both broke, but I love what it’s done for his personality.
I hate that I am so out of the loop that I just learned about this. Hope M is feeling better. xoxo