My 2 youngest children, Maren and Hank, are almost 3 years apart yet virtually the same size. Maren outweighs Hank by a mere pound and stands only two inches taller. They were mistaken for twins at the public pool a few years ago though I’m not sure which kid the ditsy mom thought was disabled because it was pretty obvious they were not at the same developmental stage. Maren spoke in full sentences while Hank’s preferred method of communication was a guttural grunt. Really, not much has changed.
Maren was my second child, but my first fathered by a short man. I kept the same baby daddy for Hank, so I have two short kids. Hank also has Craig’s broad shoulders so the kid is all torso. This is perhaps the reason I may not have noticed that he was dragging his dead foot behind him for a few hours before he and Maren confessed that he was injured this past Sunday.
It seems when Hank gets hurt, Maren is always around. When Hank gets hurt, I am not. This time I was at least in the middle of a domestic chore rather than on the computer (I think). At least that's the story I fed the triage nurse, repeated to the doctor, and bribed the kids with popsicles to regurgitate to my in-laws.
This is Hank's second mishap in less than a month. The details of what exactly happened are still a little sketchy, but I think it looked a little something like this….
He didn't stick the landing off of our king size bed. I admit I heard a little commotion and chose to ignore the children because I was elbow deep in bread dough. Hank landed quite hard upon his ankle and though he couldn't bear any weight upon his injury, he chose to suck it up and not let me know. Maren fixed it by adhering 3 band-aids upon the spot Hank said it hurt though there were no lacerations. Then Dr. Marler decided it was best if they settled down, keep it on the DL, and not endure the wrath of mom to boot.
It was a good hour before I noticed there was a problem. Sure, I saw him scoot across the floor like a dog with an itchy bottom, but that behavior really isn't a-typical of Hank. It became clear there was something wrong when Hank did not get himself to the table when I announced lunch was ready. The kid likes his groceries and is not one to miss a meal. He just sat on the floor helpless looking at me and looking at Maren who was shooting him her best "I'm going to kick your ass if you tell" look.
Once I assessed the damage and realized I didn't have the equipment to splint the injury myself, I threw Hank in the car and shot Maren my best "I'm going to kick your ass" as my Sunday was now officially screwed.
Thankfully the wait time to see the doctor was minimal. We were in and out within 14 hours and I think Hank probably left more germs in the waiting room than he picked up this time. The pediatrician was excellent and determined his x-ray to be fracture free. She found Hank to be quite charming despite him pointing out her "weird hair" and shoes that Stacey and Clinton would never approve.
Hank is still not able or at least he won't put any weight on his right foot and I suspect my little Mama's boy is milking his little injury. Sure, his ankle is swollen 3x the normal size, but he is enjoying being carried around. The kid is not a lightweight at 36 lbs and carrying him up and down the stairs several times a day is starting to annoy me. The kid who usually does a belly slide down the stairs every morning now calls for me to carry him down. I'm surprised he hasn't found a goddamn bell. I thought about wearing him in a sling or a Baby Bjorn so I could multi-task, but despite Erin's offer (of I'm Gonna Kill Him fame) to run the NYC marathon with me if I carried her in a Baby Bjorn, the weight capacity is only 25 lbs.
Instead of enjoying my 2.5 hours of freedom today, I had to stay with him at preschool. Hanging out in a church isn't my first choice for a Tuesday morning, but it was mildly amusing to watch Hank work the sympathy angle on the church ladies. He got an extra muffin at snack time and out of clean up duties. The kids got game.
But I know better.
If he's not walking by Thursday, he's going to a different kind of church. You know the kind where they slap the sick kid on the forehead and cry "Heal Child". I need a professional because it didn't work when I tried it at home.
Don't forget to enter my first ever funnyorsnot giveaway. Low entries. Apparently no one is interested in my ass upon a mug or has a yellow panty fetish.
When my sister and I were riding double on our bike and fell off, I made her walk the rest of the block home on a sprained ankle which my grandmother then tied off with a handkerchief full of onion slices, you know, to draw out the ill humours.
I don't think she's forgiven me yet, and I still don't know how to ride a bike. Ah, childhood.
[Glad there's no fracture. That would SUCK.]
That's just what's wrong with American kids today – they never stick the landing.
I can't help but love a charmer who watches What Not to Wear.
You probably shouldn't let him near me though, I'm generally dressed like a train wreck.
I thought you were going to send him to a Catholic school and let the nuns deal with him.
They're a tough bunch o' broads those nuns.
That's why I remain decidedly heathen.
Hey, he's at least 4 lbs. lighter than my 3 yr. old Maggie and she thinks I should carry her ALL the freaking time! I mostly refuse, but sometimes her throwdowns are epic, and well, I just don't need that kind of attention in a store. Anyway, sorry to hear the little hellion is hurt, but glad it's not broken. And once again, relieved that my own boy child has yet to do any such damage. My sisters kids were literally in the ER every other week for stitches, it got kind of embarassing.
Hang in there, just think of the strength training your getting for your marathon. hehehehehe
God love him! I can't blame him, I'd milk the situation myself. Smart kid!
Mack fell out of bed in his sleep and busted his chin, had to have it glued together. Sam broke both of his collar bones, once he was awake and fell off of the couch, another time, he slept with his big brother and fell(or was pushed?) out of bed in his sleep and broke his other collar bone. This all happened in about six months time. I fully expected child protective services to call bull shit on all the injuries taking place in my kid's sleep. Fortunately, they've knocked it off! No broken bones, knock on wood, in a while!
That's so funny! You're kiddos sound an awful lot like mine. We have "frequent flyer miles" from our multitude of visits to the ER. It cracks me up when kiddos milk an injury…although my dudes go all out. Broken bones requiring surgery, broken bones and discovering bone cysts (more surgery), broken hand, 2nd degree burns, concussions, CAT scans, ingesting and overdosing medicine….that doesn't make me sound like a very good mama. But I promise I'm always there when injury occurs….maybe that makes me sound even worse. Ugh!!
oh Hank. he's not accident prone, he's an extreme sports junkie. I fear for his teen years.
my little cousin who is two years younger than me had a good 4 inches and who knows how much poundage on me until I was a teenager. everyone thought she was older.
Oh, how I love your stories! I'm lying here in Nashville, coffee in hand, and wishing you were here!
I love you. Your Hank stories are THE BEST!
Doh. Well, at least there was no arterial spray. Pretty sure you would've noticed that one at the outset, tho.
Also? My son is 10 months younger than my stepdaughter & he's like a whole head taller than she is. Most people think he's older. This irritates her. And she is further irritated when I explain that she will likely never be taller than him. Heh.
More stories about Maren and her multitude of talents please!
For some reason this story reminds me of Mike Meyers on SNL as "Philip, the hyperactive hypoglycemic". Maybe you should get him a helmet…and a chocolate bar.
Yup this is the part where you create a large bubble wrap body suit for Hank…or at least sign upfor the hospital's VIP (very important patient) membership.
Poor Hank.
It's all about the tough love Poppy. Pick that kid up. Stand him on his two feet. And offer him 20 bucks. I bet the kid leaps.
…ok, maybe not. Don't listen to me, I'm not known as the most compassionate mom on the block.
My sister had a bunk bed, and one time we were playing on the top, and I pretended I was falling. My younger sister (by 3.5 years) panicked and rushed to help me, but then I REALLY started falling. Somehow I pulled her down under me. She landed on a little tin box, and I landed *CRUNCH* right on top of her arm, flung over this box. Clean break, all the way through. She hugs her extra-elbowed arm to her chest and says she's going to tell on me. Oh hells yeah. I go rushing up after her, to make sure she'll be okay.
My mom was doing dishes and telling her to pipe down, until I got my dad's attention. He assessed the information quickly and precisely and they rushed her off to hospital. I stayed behind to babysit our baby brother.
I felt so guilty, I did her chores for WEEKS.
And apparently your bit with the picture was so funny, my toddler asked me what was wrong. Apparently I don't get to laugh like that often.
I swear to you, as I read this post, my kids were, (and still are as I sit here commenting), jumping off of my son's bed. Directly above my head…. I'm pretty sure if I sit here long enough, one of them will come crashing down on me.
You've been quoted!
http://qoddessquotesblogs.blogspot.com/2011/02/quotes-february-5-2011.html
I found you on the Quoteables in the Blog World site. And I loved the whole post! I must follow you…I need laughs