Jessie with her broken wrist from a few years ago
Jessie with her broken wrist from a few years ago

I have three kids.  Sam has never, ever been hurt or injured, with the exception of a concussion when Jessie accidentally shut his head in the car door.  Julianna has never ever been hurt or injured.  Neither one has ever been sick enough to require an antibiotic, other than Julianna’s horrible, horrible thrush infection when she was a few weeks old.  They are paragons of health.  Julie may be walking around with fifteen band-aids on her at any one time, but those are imagined injuries.  I point this out, not for the purposes of bragging (although I totally credit extended nursing – Jessie stopped nursing before she was a year, both Sam and Julie nursed well into toddlerhood).  But to contrast those two to Jessie – my poor girl was on amoxicillin for chronic ear infections so often when she was tiny, she started asking for “bubble gum syrup” because she grew to love the taste.  And she’s had more x-rays than I can count, one broken wrist, strained her knee, sprained her finger, her wrist, had stitches twice on her pretty little face, and a concussion.

Did I mention that she broke her foot last week?

My poor girl – I feel so badly for her.  Because crutches suck.  Even if you’re a girl who enjoys mostly sedentary activities (she loves reading, Food Network, and trashy Lifetime reality shows), it still sucks.  And she wasn’t even really doing anything – she was twirling in the kitchen, in socks.  And slipped exactly the wrong way.  It’s just a hairline fracture and it’s more than likely NOT thru a growth plate (we’ve got an appt with the podiatrist next week), so she won’t be on them for long.   And I’ve bling-ed them out, as much as I could.  I duct taped with pretty cupcake tape, and used rainbow duct tape for additional pizzazz.   Then we got a small canvas bag, and puffy fabric paint so she could decorate it, and we’ll attach it to the crutch so that she can carry a book or a little notebook with her.  We went shopping at Barnes and Nobles, and she got four new books to read, and then bought all kinds of cute slipper socks to wear as well.

But as pretty as the crutches are, she still hurts, and it’s hard.  The crutches hurt far worse than the foot at this point, because she’s got that immobilized in a foot boot.  But her arms hurt, her other foot hurts, her whole body aches and she’s miserable.  I can tell when the motrin wears off, because she just starts crying – and it breaks my heart.

And it’s not at all easy, to be the only parent home with a broken Jessie and two other kids.  I’ve been wishing for a clone, or two.  One to clean (because that’s what I should be doing, instead of blogging), one to keep Jessie company and bring her stuff, like food and drinks and tissues, one to play with and read to Julie and Sam.  And while I’m dreaming here – I’d also like another one to fold the mountain of clean laundry in front of my washing machine, because I seriously don’t have time for that.  Marc’s off at work for the morning, and heading to the gym this afternoon.  Sam’s playing on Wii sports, which I”m grateful for, because it’ll burn off some energy.  Julie has kept herself busy all morning by carrying stuff around – taking nail polish from the dining room into Jessie’s room, and Sam’s weapons into his bedroom.   Jessie is in her bedroom, with projects, books, a kindle loaded with games and netflix, and a phone so she can call people.

It’s a quiet day at home, with the snow piled up outside and the house smells like chocolate cake (because Jessie baked earlier this morning).  Our vacation plans are pretty tame this year, because Jessie really can’t do an awful lot of walking or wandering about.  Tomorrow, she’s going up to pick up her best friend Glennys for the week, and that’ll help more than anything else I’ve come up with to make her happy.  And I keep reminding her that at least it’s not summer, when she’d want to be running and swimming and playing outside all the time.  She’s got a week to get good at the crutches before taking them to school with her.  But all the look on the bright side chats don’t change the fact that being on crutches is no fun at all.

Spring (and healthy, unbroken limbs and appendages) can’t come soon enough…

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