It was just last night, I think, that I was IM’ing with a friend and I said, “Next week Simon starts going to school for 3 days extended (until 3pm) and Sophia starts swim camp! I won’t know what to do with my free time! But I’m willing to find out.”
You know the old saying: “Man plans, God laughs.”
Today I got a call from the preschool telling me that Sophia had broken her arm.
It happened on the playground. I imagined she had fallen off the monkey bars or something, but no: she had been sitting at the Art Table, and as she was getting off the bench she slipped and fell on her arm. She was being very brave when I came to get her—no tears, stoically holding her arm covered in ice packs. She had cried, she told me. All of the teachers were quite amazed at how brave she was being. I took her to the doctor and from there to the pediatric orthopedic doctor. She started to lose her composure, though, after she had finally gotten the X-rays (“Like Curious George got when he went to the hospital”) and we had to wait in the exam room.
“I want to go home now,” she said. “I wish I’d never hurt my arm.”
The ortho tech came in to give her a splint (she’ll have a splint for a couple of days and then get a cast on Thursday), and can I tell you how worrisome it is to have an ortho tech who is a dead ringer for Ian McShane as Al Swearengen wrapping up your daughter in gauze? (I’m totally serious. He didn’t have grease in his hair, and he didn’t have the little beard under his lip, but other than that: yup.)
So now she’s on the couch, watching “Dragontales” with her arm propped up on a pillow (to keep it above the heart). She’s eating a couple of cut-up apples and cheese sticks (“because that’s all I can eat now, Mommy”).
She’s upset because she’s not going to be able to do all the swimming she was planning. I’m upset because my little girl got hurt. I assume that after a day or so we’ll adjust to the new regimen. Of course, she can’t go to her last day of preschool tomorrow, because they’re having “Water Days,” and she can’t get wet.
The weather’s finally gotten extremely hot around here, and she can’t get her splint (and in a few days, her cast) wet. Neat.
I’ve never broken anything (knock on nearest wood sprite)—does it affect your outlook on life? She has an adventuresome spirit and I hope she’s just as energetic after this little incident as she was before. At the moment she’s even lost her sense of humor.
