Son broke two bones in his forearm yesterday while playing outside. I'm pretty sure it was my fault. Cause I didn't shower and was wearing too tight yoga pants and no makeup. And walking around like that is pretty much a surefire guarantee that you'll end up in the ER with your kids. And I got a nosebleed on the ambulance ride over because my blood pressure shot up after seeing my son's arm shaped like a capital letter "S". So my white shirt with the bald Ajax man on the front was spattered in blood.
At one point, son was zonked out from painkillers so I put lipstick on. Because I felt that would distract from the bloodstains apparently? No, because that's the dumb shit you preoccupy yourself with so you don't have to think about your poor little dude's situation too closely.
But despite inappropriate cosmetic application, I think I did a pretty good job of holding it together for him. My knees buckled when I saw the X-Ray of both his arm bones snapped clean through. And I got shaky when I had to leave the room so they could set his arm. But I think I was able to comfort son and help him feel as calm as I could while we were there.
Grandpa came with a teddy bear, and Grandma showed up soon after. Husband was coming by train so it took longer for him to arrive. Before he got there the nurse told son that he would be able to go home soon. Son said, "No - I'll stay here till my daddy comes. I need to talk to him." And he did. We got home and set him up with codeine, a movie, and pretty much anything he wanted. We were doing ok.
But today the awfulness of it snuck up and walloped me. Husband and I cut son out of his tee-shirt so we could help him into a clean, roomy daddy tee. He's still in a splint and we were too nervous to pull his arm through the hole. Without his shirt on I was able to see son's teeny tiny shoulder blades. His tiny wrist bones and elbows. 6 year old elbows. I got weepy and kept kissing and hugging him till he was like, "Lady, COME ON!".
But it was like that new baby scared feeling came over me. When you get your new baby home and just stare at them because they are so delicately constructed that you just know your going to demolish them in some way. You'll set your coffee mug down in the wrong spot and squish their skull by accident. Or fart in the wrong direction and send them sailing into traffic. Somehow, you're going to screw up and break them because they are just that super delicate.
But they totally survive. And after awhile you think of them as your hale and hardy kids. Fell on your head? Well that's gonna leave a mark! They seem so big and grownup that you forget that they are still totally little and smushable. So smushable.