Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Facing your Parental Fears
Everyone is always telling me I worry about my Girls to much. Especially my Hubby. And for the most part they are right. While I would love nothing more then to cram my bumbling, distractable 2 year old into a nice padded soundproof sphere its just not practical. My house is far to small. So instead, about 100 times a day I close my eyes, and all the air is sucked from my body while I pray to any form of higher power willing to help, that Bug will not fall from whatever bazillion precarious perches she mischievously finds herself upon. How else will she ever learn balance, and a rational fear of heights if I don't let her do a little solo exploring. And you would think it would be the old oak tree out front, or the tippity top of the slide at the park, or off the back of the couch which she uses as a balance beam that would do her in. Or her own two feet. A week after we brought Sunny home. While out for the only walk per day my cesarean recovery allowed. While standing right next to me, Bug tripped. Falling head first off the last porch step. Onto hard rocky ground. How do you figure out if something is seriously wrong with a hysterical midget that cannot freaking talk? She was such a trooper. Cried for about five minutes and then was very calm unless someone touched her. But no matter what we did, itsy bitsy spider, patty cake, high fives, food bribes she wouldnt use her right arm. So off to the ER we went. With a newborn. And me still on pain meds. Oh yeah and a two hour drive one way. Poor kid was such a trooper. Until the nurses tried to take her temperature and then the blood curdling, screaming ridged body, eye rolling fear began. Two sets of XRays later and its a broken clavical. Only thing to do is brace her arm for as long as she would let us and give her some pain meds of her own.Longest eight hours of my life. .