Fascination With The CUP

  I am raising three very different boys.  All 3 born to the same set of parents.  All raised with the same rules and beliefs.  All 3 attend the same school and church.  All 3 are surrounded by the same people.

And all 3 are as different as can be. 

They have different likes and dislikes.  Different temperaments.  They show love in different ways.  They have different strengths and weaknesses. Their differences fascinate me.  I could write for days about their differences, but I won't do that right now.  I am only pointing out their differences on the baseball field.

All three boys like to play sports and are a part of practically every sport team offered in our area. This is one way that they are all similar. It's just how we roll.  Baseball is the sport we are playing right now.  Tucker is on the high school team and plays short stop and third base.  Sawyer plays "kid pitch" this year and is both a pitcher and short stop.  Carter has moved out of t-ball this year and is playing "coach pitch".

On the field, the boys all approach the game of baseball so differently.

Tucker is a thinker on the field.  He excels at the sport because before the ball is ever pitched, he has already thought through every possible scenario for what he should do with the ball.  When the ball is hit to him, he fields it clean and without hesitation. He makes the play at the perfect spot with impeccable timing.  His brains help him shine on the field.  If he ever makes a mistake, Tucker is very hard on himself and very unforgiving.  He takes losses personally.

Sawyer is a natural.  He steps out on the field and doesn't even have to think about what to do.  His moves are fluid and seem absolutely effortless.  Without even thinking, he makes the play at the correct base.  He has a natural instinct for the game.  If his team loses, he generally breaks down and is very upset.  He hates to lose more than he loves to win.  Sawyer's competitive nature keeps him at the top of his game at all times.

And then .... there is Carter.

Carter just simply loves life.  He is content with whatever the outcome of the game.  He is more often seen smiling at the crowd than he is watching the ball.  He thinks that his team does awesome at every single game, even if they stink it up.  He has all the self confidence in the world and proudly proclaims that he is a great baseball player.  He does not have a competitive bone in his body and is perfectly happy....win or lose. 

Carter loves to play sports, but I always wonder if it isn't the social aspect of it that he enjoys the most.  Upon announcement of practice time, the other two boys generally cheer and race to grab their gear.  They are disappointed from a rain out and totally bummed on "no practice days".   Carter is indifferent.  He is just as happy at home as he is at practice.  He seems to like wherever he happens to be at the time the best.  He has never been passionate about any sport like the other two are.

Well, never UNTIL......

....He was assigned the position of catcher this year.

Oh. My. Stars.

This kid is obsessed with his catcher's gear.

He played catcher two years ago in t-ball.  Basically because I was the coach and no one else wanted to play back there.  So, I stuck my own kid back there.  I know.  I'm a great Mom.

Anyway, he liked it back there. So, this year his coach asked the team if anyone was interested in playing catcher. His hand shot up.  He was pumped to have been given back his favorite spot.

After his first practice, Carter informed us that we would have to buy him a cup.  He said, "I need a cup to play catcher.  Girls don't have to wear 'em, but I do. Can you go buy me one?"

So we did.

And when we got in the car from buying it, he shouted....

"I can't WAIT to try on my cup!"

We all laughed at him, but then realized he was dead serious.

After we bought it, he 'practiced' wearing the cup many times.

He wore it around the house, out on the trampoline, playing in the back yard, and even watching TV.

He told us that real catchers wore their cups and he needed to get used to it.  He needed lots of practice wearing his cup.

The first few nights he even wanted to sleep in it.  After I shut that suggestion down, he settled for sleeping in the sliding shorts that the cup slides down into and putting the cup on his bedside table.

At the time, the cup was the only real catching equipment he had.

A few days later, we bought the whole shebang.  The complete set of catching gear.

You would have thought we handed Carter a set of tickets to Disney World.

Seriously.  He went bonkers over it.

We just thought he was obsessed with the cup.  Getting the whole set of gear brought his obsession to a whole new level.

So now, Carter is just as passionate about baseball as his brothers are.  Although it's more about the gear than the game, we are gonna roll with it.

So now, when the umpire asks the coach before the game..

"Is your catcher properly equipped?"

Carter's coach can answer "Yes" with the utmost certainty.

Play Ball!

Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

   I am a woman who wears many hats.  Mom, wife, kindergarten teacher, runner, wanna be great cook, writer, recipe reader, sometimes photographer, daughter, sister, friend, cheerleader and chauffeur.

I hesitate to post about this for fear of sounding all whiny and dramatic, but just wanted to explain my lapse in posts lately.  The hat I have been sporting more than the others lately is that of a chauffer. 

I practically live in my car and at various sporting venues these days. 

A typical day for me lately goes just like yesterday.  This was my day....

6:15-6:30 - Hit the snooze button over and over.  Ignore texts from Bradley telling me to get up.

6:30 - 6:45 - Make myself as presentable as possible.

6:45 - 6:48 - Put muffins in the oven.

6:48 - 6:50 - Give wake up kiss. Again. Again.

6:50 - 7:15 - Pack lunches, sign homework pages, get muffins out, tie shoes, race to the car.

7:15 - 7:20 - Drive to high school. Drop off Tucker.

7:20 - 7:22 - Drive to elementary school.

7:24 - 7:25 - Sign in.

7:25 - 3:00 - Work as a kindergarten teacher.  Leave No Child Behind. 

3:00 - 3:40 - Get the little boys haircut (No time for me and Tucker)

3:40 - 3:50 - Rush home and grab practice gear.

3:50 - 3:58 - Fast food drive thru (My middle one has to be fed before sporting events because of his hypoglycemia symptoms)

3:58 - 4:00 - Drive to baseball field. Arrive just as the first batter steps up to the plate.  Play Ball!

4:00 - 5:29 - Cheer like a crazy woman for Tucker who is on the Junior High Baseball team

5:29 - 5:32 - Drive Carter to his basketball practice (Shout to a passing Dad that he is being left unattended.)

5:32 - 5:35 - Drive back to baseball game

5:35 - 6:29 - Pick back up cheering like a crazy lady at the game. (Our team won by one run. Woot Woot!)

6:29 - 6:31 - Drive back to pick up Carter at basketball.

6:31 - 6:35 -  Drive back to fast food restaurant

6:35 - 6:50 - Feed the gang

6:50 - 7:05 - Drive to baseball practice at the other side of town

7:05 - 8:40 - Watch baseball practice. Cringe over missed throws and smile over awesome plays.

8:40 - 8:55 - Drive home.

8:55 - 9:30 - Send one kid to the bath and do homework with the others.  Rotate. Rotate.

9:30 - 9:40 - Fix glasses of milk and give goodnight kiss. Again. Again.

9:40 - 9:41 - Ignore the mess that has accumulated in my house.

9:41 - 9:43 - Start a load of laundry containing needed ball uniforms.

9:43 - 10:20 - Enter whirlpool bath santuary

10:20 - 10:21 - Move uniforms from washer to dryer.

10:22 - ?  Enjoy a few moments with the love of my life.

Sometime later - Collapse.

I am not complaining....nay....only explaining.  Explaining why I haven't had time to write a blog lately and explaining to myself why I can't fit a run in everyday....or a healthy meal....or a clean house.  It is what it is.  And I wouldn't change a single minute of my days.  The boys are growing and these busy days will pass.  And then I will be sitting around missing it. 

Gotta go.

Time for baths and homework.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

Cooking Class

What?
You don't think they are the most lovely brownies ever photographed??!!
Yeah, me either.
But, the boys thought they were fabulous!

Last night, we had a cooking class at our house.  The boys were the students.  I was the teacher.

 

The lesson went like this.....

Tucker...."I wish I had some cobbler with ice-cream.  Can you make some?"

Me....."No. We don't have the stuff for it."

Tucker....."Can you go and buy the stuff?"

Me....."Ummm...No!  Not a chance.  I just made grilled chicken, sweet potatoes, asparagas, and corn.  I am not making cobbler. I have done all the cooking I am going to do for the night. Besides, it isn't good for you."

Tucker...."I wish I had some. With ice cream on it."

Me......"You aren't getting any stinkin' cobbler!  So drop it!  I am not going to the store tonight.  Eat something else."

Tucker......"Yeah, but I want something with ice cream on it."

Me.......(I go to the pantry and grab a box of brownie mix and toss it to Tucker.)  "Here.... make these."

Tucker...."Seriously?  I don't know how to make brownies."

Me......"The recipe is on the back.  Follow it."

That was the end of the lesson. 

I know you must be impressed with my instruction.

I then went back to folding the clothes in the living room and listening to Tucker talk to himself trying to figure out the directions to the recipe.  He was reading the recipe aloud which clued in his brothers that he was doing something out of the ordinary. He very quickly had two little helpers who thought making brownies would be a grand adventure.  I was snickering and delighting in their problem solving skills.  They were really hilarious in there.  I wish I had an audio recording of their conversation over the brownie production.

Some of the things I over heard....

"This doesn't look right."

"How are we suppose to get the oven timer on?"

"What do we mix this up in?"

"How much of this mix are we suppose to use?  The whole thing?  Maybe half of it?"

"This is way too runny.  It doesn't look like brownies."

"I think we should be on that show called The Worst Cooks In America."

After much teamwork and problem solving, and me working really hard to keep from butting in, here is their end product.....

And this is just a teensy part of the mess they left me....

I have no idea what they could've possibly used FOUR spoons for.

This is a big pile of brownie mix (along with some other mysterious crud) on the floor, which explains why their brownies turned out just a wee bit on the runny side.

I learned from this cooking class that I need to get the kids in the kitchen more.

A lot more.

Rooster Tail

The morning Rooster Tail....

Reason number 647 why I love little boys.

Girls wake up with a rat's nest.

Boys roll out of the bed with a Rooster Tail.

I have a strong affection for Rooster Tails.

I see them and I instantly have the urge to crawl under a blanket and sit in my favorite chair with the owner of the bed head and snuggle.

Little known fact:

Boys with Rooster Tails need snuggling.

Shameful Shoes

 These are the shoes my first grader has been wearing to school every day.

This is actually a very flattering photo of them.  I must have captured their best angle in great lighting, because in real life they look really terrible.  They are so bad that they will have to be trashed instead of donated.  They are a full size too small.  The laces are frayed at the ends.  The soles are coming off. The edges near the ankles have holes in them.  The insoles are worn down to the bare threads so that the rubber is peeking through. 

Poor Carter.

He has had to walk around in these ill fitting, worn out shoes for quite a while.

I have always heard that you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their shoes.  If that's the case, then our family is in serious trouble.

Yesterday, I decided to finally replace the shameful shoes.

I left right after school and drove to the shoe store that is nearest our town and let Carter pick out some new shoes.  He was beyond delighted!

He couldn't wait to put them on and insisited that he go ahead and wear them into the grocery store.

He was really proud of the new shoes.

He assured me that his Daddy , his brother, and his teacher were all gonna just love them.

He couldn't wait to show them off.

Since his Daddy was working late last night, he left his shoes right smack dab in the middle of the kitchen table so that he would see them.  A note instructing his Dad to "Look at my new Shoos" accompanied the  shoes......

After wearing the fresh, new, clean shoes that he was so proud of for one day...one day...this is how they look....

Shameful.

I give up.

Fake Awarding Their Differences

  Friends of mine are often curious about the differences in my three boys personalities.  Often times, when telling a story about one of my sons, someone will stop me and ask questions like, "Is he the one that gets in trouble the most?"  or "Oh, is he the one of the three that does the best in school?"  or "Do they all act that way?"

  I completely can understand their interest. Personally, I have always found it intriguing to compare the differences in siblings.  It is so interesting to see such differences in kids who were raised in the same household by the same parents under the same circumstances.  It's really baffling at how different my sons personalities are considering they are all exposed to the same environment and are all the same gender.

  For some reason, the differences in my sons was on my mind today during my afternoon jog.  I started thinking about them and pretending.  I was pretending that I was giving out awards to them.  I was awarding them for their differences.  So, for half an hour, while I jogged, I came up with fake awards for my sons.  And each time my crazy brain came up with a different category, there was always an instant clear winner between the three.

The nominees for all the fake awards are these three silly boys.......

Tucker......my oldest son, who is almost 13 and is in the 7th grade

Sawyer, the middle child, who just turned 9 and is in 3rd grade

Carter, the youngest of the 3, who is in first grade and is 7 years old

While I was doling out these fake awards, I realized that the child who recieves the award today, may not be the same kid who would receive it in a few months.  Their personalities are always changing as they grow.  These are some of the awards that I created in my brain for no reason whatsoever except to pass the time while I was jogging.

The awards go to.....drum roll please......

The Happiest - Carter

(Content with whatever is happening in life.  Pretty much always has been.)

The Most Compliant - Tucker

(Rule follower and tries to do what is asked of him without a fuss.)

The Funniest - Sawyer

(This kid keeps us in stitches.  I have been told that he doesn't let his humor out at school or other places, so we get it all to ourselves for now.  His sense of humor is beyond his years.)

The Loudest - Tucker

(I had his hearing tested when he was little, because I thought he couldn't hear well since he talked so loud.  He still has a megaphone mouth.)

The Most Stubborn - Sawyer

(From about age one to present.  I almost committed myself to the looney house when he was a toddler.  His way is the only way that is acceptable.  The kid has a mind of his own.)

The Toughest - Carter

(Tough as nails.  Probably out of necessity, being the youngest of 3.)

The Hungriest - Sawyer

(Constantly grazing.  He eats the entire time he is at home.  His metabolism is through the roof.)

The Calmest - Carter

(Will play quietly for hours if the need arises.  Is very laid back.)

The Most Peaceful - Tucker

(Has always been a peacemaker.  He is the referee between fusses and is good at keeping everyone playing happily.)

The Most Competetive - Sawyer

(Unbelievably so)

The Whiniest - Tucker

(Drama.  If he is sick, you would think he is dying.  If he gets hurt, you would think he is dying.)

The Slowest - Carter

(Turtle is his nickname for a reason.)

The Most Polite- Sawyer

(Always remembers to say "mam" and "sir" and "thank you".)

The Most Well Rounded - Tucker

(Self explanatory one.)

The Messiest - Carter

(His room is a disaster area.  His clothes stay scattered.  He drags out junk all over the house.)

Ok, some of these aren't really 'awards'.  It's more of a "Who's Who" list or something like that.  Anyway, I think about how different my boys are ALL the time!  It is so baffling how they can be so different, yet I love them equally.

So maybe, the next time I go jogging....I can use my time to mentally solve some sort of important global issues....but for today......It was fake awards.



Sleep Deprived Snappiness

  My world gets instantly knocked off it's axis if I am sleep deprived.  I have always been that way.  Some people bob happily along running on 4-5 hours of sleep per night.  Not me.  I am not a happy along bobber without sleep.  In general, I am not really very moody.  I am pretty mellow.  Not much rubs me the wrong way and I don't get worried over much either.  But when it's bedtime....and I am ready to go to sleep....you better stand back....and let the Mama sleep!

  For a couple of nights now, Sawyer (my 8 year old) has had major trouble falling asleep.....and trouble staying asleep without nightmares.  I am not sure what has spurred this.  We don't watch scary movies.  We don't have mature video games at our house.  We don't fight at our house.  We don't have the kind of house that would foster nightmares. So, I am confused at what might be causing it. But....he tries to fall asleep and then invariably cames into my room and whispers....

"I can't go to sleep."

I try to give him suggestions to help him doze off, but what's a Mom to do?  It's not like I can force him to sleep.  By this point in the night it is sometimes after 11pm.  I know that this is not late to many of you, but to our household.....which is usually slumbering solidly by 9:30.....this is very late.

Then....to make matters worse for the sleep deprived Mom and Sawyer, we throw his nightmares into the mix.  He has been waking up during the night sweating with terrible nightmares and to help soothe him, he sometimes crawls into the bed with me.  Once he gets into my bed...the sleep is over for me.  I absolutely cannot sleep with a third person in the bed.  It's too hot!  And Sawyer is like a mini oven.  He's the hottest kid ever!

Two nights ago, I was already working off of too little sleep and then Bradley, my hubs, had a sleepless night.  He was up and down.  Taking a tylenol.  Using the bathroom.  Then getting a drink.  Every single time he got up...I woke up.  I was ready to put him in a choke hold, but I bit my tongue.  He wasn't keeping me awake on purpose.  It's not his fault that I am awakened when I hear the dust blow off a ceiling fan.   I am just a very light sleeper.

As we climbed into bed last night, I gently requested of my sweet hubs to keep the noise to a minimum so that I could finally get some sleep.  He sweetly brought my snappy tone to my attention and promised to try to improve his noise level. ........Ok, ok,......so maybe the conversation didn't go exactly like that, but anyway.....you get the idea.  The night had promise of producing sleep.

Just as I was entering the dream state......I felt warm breath near my face.  I heard the whisper....

"I can't fall asleep."

And this is the instant I snapped.  This is the instant that I felt like I would never, ever get to get a good night's sleep again.  This is the moment that my instincts to be kind and caring and loving were thrown out the door. This is the moment that I am certain my irises turned from blue to red and my female voice changed into the voice of a demon.  My evil Mom voice growled....

"Well, what am I suppose to do about it?!!  I can't make you fall asleep!"

It was dark, but light enough that I knew instantly that I had hurt his feelings by the look on his face.  He started whimpering.  I knew I had made a mistake, but I was so tired!  I was ready to cry from the frustration of losing sleep again. 

After my sweet boy was tucked safely back into his bed....away  from snappy Mom.....I crawled back into bed.  It was almost midnight by this point.  Good sleep was slipping away from me again.  I laid there wishing I had not snapped at Sawyer and felt the guilt wash over me. 

Then, I started to worry about him.  Is it normal for a young child to experience bouts of insomnia?  Could there be an underlying medical cause?  Was it related to his hypoglycemic symptoms?  Is he worried about something?

I suddenly felt like such a bad mother.

After lying awake for what felt like hours, I finally dozed off......only to be awakened by a crack of lightning, the rattling of windows and the rumble of thunder.  Over and over the lightning struck and the thunder rolled.  The rain pounded the roof and filled the gutters.  I felt like screaming a curse at the storm, but since I don't curse.....I just huffed.

This story doesn't really have a happy ending....yet.  I am hoping that since the storms have passed and everyone is exhausted...that perhaps tonight will be the night that we will all sleep.

I'm not sure this is even a story worth sharing, except that sleepless nights, and puke, and poop, and bad choices, and heartbreaks, and snappiness are all part of my life, too. 

I'm going to bed.

Laser Tag Loser

  Two years ago, we carried the boys to play laser tag a couple of times.  They have been wanting to go back since.  This morning, they got up and something spurred their memory again of the laser tag wonderland that was an hour drive away.  They all but got on their knees and begged for us to go play.  Since cost is always a factor, they all even volunteered to use some of their Christmas money to go play.  Carter went so far as to offer to pay 50 bucks himself for us all to play.  They were very convincing.

 Although begging rarely works at our house, Bradley and I finally gave in to their suggestion and off we went.

We arrived at the laser tag arena and paid for two games.  We even let them keep their Christmas money in their pocket.  We aren't totally heartless. Since there was only the five of us playing, we decided not to play on teams and play the "every man for himself" version. We each chose our laser tag vests and guns and was given our laser tag pseudoname.  The rest of my gang became "Supernova", "Ninja", "Cyberdog" and "Nebula".  I was dubbed "Moose" for the duration of the games. I was instantly transformed into a killer.

While I was suited up as "Moose"....... I became a loser Mom.

Moose was out for blood.  Moose did not care that she was shooting her defenseless six year old in the back of his laser vest.  Moose was thrilled to rack up points from her moody preteen who is in the throws of the most emotional part of his life.  Moose laughed victoriously when she disabled her spouses laser gun rendering him defenseless.  It did not bother Mama Moose one bit that she was raising her score at the expense of her overly competetive 9 year old.  Moose wanted to win!  Moose wanted to win at all costs.

At the end of the game, scores were blazing across the scoreboard for all to see.  Moose was the most accurate shooter in the game.  The heartless Mama Moose jabbed,

 "Ha!  In your face...you losers!"

I am not a good Mama when I play laser tag.

Inch by Inch

I marked their height on the door frames yesterday.  Sawyer grew 2 inches in 5 months!  Tucker and Carter both grew 1 1/2 inches in such a short time.

Inch by Inch......they are changing.

growing,

developing,

maturing.

They are changing too quickly.

I am powerless to stop it.

I am not sure that I want to stop it....

 yet accepting it is difficult.

Inch by inch....

The challenges of parenting change.

From temper tantrums, broken toys, and making messes

to

social acceptance,

broken hearts,

and

 bad attitudes.

Inch by inch as they grow,

I become more of a coach than an authoritarian.

I encourage good decisions and cringe over bad ones.

Inch by inch,

as the marks get higher on the wall....

I look at them in disbelief.

I am amazed by them.

In awe of the young man Tucker is becoming.

Impressed by the personality Sawyer has developed.

Encouraged by the self assurance Carter possesses.

Inch by Inch,

as they grow...

.....they are becoming what God intended them to be....

Inch by inch.

Why Can't They Just Smile and Be Normal??

  I wanted to get some nice pictures of the boys for Christmas cards.  After a bit of a war, I convinced Sawyer to put on jeans instead of his favorite "slicky" pants, made Tucker change into a navy shirt, and encouraged Carter to take off his tie.  They boys were dressed somewhat coordinated.

  We stopped by a gorgeous waterfall near our house for the photo session that I promised would be short....if they all cooperated. 

But, instead of cooperation, I got this......

Two acceptable faces, and one....um.....not so much.

And then the roles reversed.

And then I got this lovely shot.....

I get Tucker talking out of the side of his mouth saying,

 "Smile normal, or we will be here all day."

And then Tucker took matters into his own hands, when his brothers didn't cooperate.

In the end, it was Tucker's strategy that worked.

After the heads were banged together, I got all 3 boys smiling at the same time.

Whatever works.

How Did I End Up Like That?!!

Usually when someone gets hurt, they tell the very abbreviated story of how it happened. 

How did you break your arm?

I fell.

What happened to you hand?

I cut it.

How did you get that black eye?

The ball hit it.

But there is almost always a much longer story to be told.  Probably a humorous one.

Today, as I walk, I can feel my pinky toe throb with every step.  If I had on sandals, you might even notice the purplish hue of the toe.  And you might say....

"What happened to your toe?"

I could just say.....

"I hit it on the door."

But here is the rest of the story.....

(These photos are recreated from actual events.  Kids....Do not try this at home.)

Tucker had been tormenting me with a nerf sword. 

 He would tap me...and then take off running.  Then run back and poke me, and then run just out of my reach.  Then, he would bang me on the head with it, and then dodge my attempt at hitting him back.

He can be a very annoying little booger.

So, Bradley handed me a Nerf sword so that I could retaliate.

Oh, It was ON now!

Tucker knew he was in trouble, so he took off running.

We were both laughing hysterically while I chased him through my bedroom and into my bathroom.

Tucker nimbly squeezed between the doors that had been left ajar in my bathroom.

It takes cat-like reflexes to successsfully maneuver the open doors running at full speed.  You have to dart around the first one and then make a sharp left hand dart to get immediately around the second one before you turn left again at the third one entering the closet.  It takes real skill people. 

These are skills that I apparently no longer possess. 

I never made it through the first door.

Running at full speed toward Tucker, my pinky toe got caught on the door.

Immediate pain seared throughout my foot and registered in my brain. 

The next two seconds happened so fast that I didn't even know which way was up.

Catching my toe on the door frame at full speed made me lose my balance.  I became a careening blur of Mom flying head over heels across my bathroom.

And this is where I ended up....

I had my head in the tub and my feet in the air.

My whole foot was throbbing and I was immediately certain that I had a broken toe.

I couldn't stop the tears from forming in my eyes because the pain was too much, yet I was laughing uncontrollably at the whole insane predicament that I had gotten myself into.

I was literally laughing and crying at the same time.

Bradley heard the commotion in the bathroom and came running.

How in the world did you end up like that?

When You Gotta Go...You Gotta Go.....Times Five

Yep.  They are doing what you think they are doing.

All five of them.

They Aren't Hugging

These boys of mine love each other.

They do.

But they AIN'T hugging.

They are pretending to do this.......

My sweet boys who like to snuggle with me in my chair, who make perfect 100s on their conduct grades, and who have been taught that eating healthy and keeping a healthy body weight are good for your heart,

 aspire to be....

Sumo Wrestlers.

They even have this weird stomp...dance thing before each "round" of fighting that they do.

Apparently, this weird dance thing is legit.

I have no idea how the boys know all about Sumo Wrestling.

As far as I know, it has never once been on the television at our house.

They were having so much fun, though, that when they asked me to join them.....

I did.

I have a mean beginning stomp.... dance.... thingy.

But I STINK at the actual wrestling part.

My bertha booty was taken down by both of my squirrely sons.

The "No Broken Bones" Record Is Over

   Last Monday, I mentioned  bragged to a friend of mine that we had never had a broken bone at our house.  I was saying how remarkable it was that with three boys, as active as mine are, that it is some sort of incredible miracle that no one has ever broken a bone.  The boys play every sport offered.  In the afternoons, they play on the trampoline every day.  They hike in the woods.  Play tag, or even tackle, football.  They wrestle and rough house.  And until now, we have had the bragging rights of never breaking a bone.

  The "no broken bones" streak is now officially over.

  Yesterday afternoon, the boys and two of their friends, were playing football on the trampoline.  Anybody with any sense would realize that allowing five boys on the trampoline together with a football is not a smart idea.  It's a recipe for disaster.  But, I am not known for my "over protectiveness".  I pretty much just let them play and hope for the best.  This theory has worked pretty well in the past, but yesterday....not so much.

  Sawyer came in from outside.  He was crying.  I basically ignored it for a little while.  I was washing dishes.  A kid coming in crying from the trampoline is very common.  It typically amounts to nothing.  Most of the time the tears are out of anger because someone isn't playing fair.

  This time it was a bit different.  The tears didn't stop.  I asked what was wrong and Sawyer told me that he had hurt his finger.  I took a look at it and saw that it was already swelling.  I got him a cold rag to hold on it, but touching it made him wince with pain. 

  I hoped that the finger was just jammed and that the immediate pain would go away soon and he would be up off the couch playing with his friends.

  This did not happen.

  The rest of the crew of boys stayed outside playing and Sawyer didn't go join them.  That's how I knew for sure that he was really hurt.  He would never give up the chance to play football with other dudes unless the situation was dire.

The finger swelled more and started turning a lovely shade of purple.

I started putting ice on his finger and giving him some ibuprofen to help with the swelling.  The ibuprofen helped enough that Sawyer tried to go back outside and play. this decision didn't work out well.  He came right back in asking for ice to be put back on it.

I was still holding on to the possibility that it was just badly jammed and not broken.  I continued with ice treatments for the rest of the night hoping that it would look remarkably better by morning.

It did not look better by morning.

So.....we ended up here....

At Urgent Care.

The doctor tooks some x-rays and said he thought he saw a crack in one of the views, but he needed another view to be sure.  So we got yet another x-ray. 

This one was conclusive. There was a definite break.

The break is at the growth plate of his pinky finger and it would have to be put into a cast.  The doctor and nurse made a splint out of bandages and plaster.  The wrapping is intended to help stabalize the finger until we can go get his real cast tomorrow.

I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation of spending yet another day at the doctors office tomorrow.  I can hardly contain my excitement.