Dear Sam,
At the park last Monday (the doomed park trip which led to my ‘I’m sorry‘ post), you and Olly were on the swings with me pushing you when the topic of broken bones arose.
(As a side note, I had a great rhythm going and felt briefly like superwoman – although I’m sure she has has better things to do than push swings).
When I was around your age, I tried to fly off our swing and landed on my elbow, smashing it to pieces. This has stayed with me and I get somewhat twitchy when you or Olly request that I push you “higher and higher!” as you like to shout, constantly. So I told you what had happened to me and explained why you had to hold on tight.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, this led to a full on conversation about broken bones, asking if Daddy had broken any (yes), if I had broken any others (yes), and Olly chipped in, reminding us that ” I fell off a “4ft windowsill last summer and broke my arm” (sadly a true story). You were quick to point out that you had never broken a bone. Long may it stay that way!
On Saturday, looking for something to do, we went back to the same park – I think I was determined to create happier memories there – and it was a brilliant trip! You played, the sun shone and it was almost perfect. At one point you fell and twisted your knee, but after a few minutes of crying and cuddles you were up and running around again. All was well.
Until it wasn’t.
When home an hour or so later, you started hobbling around and complaining that your knee hurt.
Now, here’s where generations don’t learn – you make such a drama out of any bump that I didn’t pay much attention. Much the same as when I broke my collarbone and my Mum was similarly dismissive (I was another to cause a fuss about any bump or scrape).
It wasn’t until your dinner time and you limped over to the table that Daddy thought my initial diagnosis may have been wrong, so he sat you down to take a look. You jumped through the roof when he touched the outside of your knee, and it was hugely swollen.
Leaving me in floods of tears over what a terrible Mum I was, all our dinners cooking in the oven and Olly beautifully lost in his own world, Daddy whisked you off to A&E.
An hour later, it transpired that you had torn a ligament in your knee and that it may have dislocated and gone back into place when you fell, causing the tear.
Well, my little love. You may not have broken a bone yet, but this is right up there! We had the job of keeping you off your feet for 2 days, and now you’re faced with no PE (or long walks, football, or kickboxing – which can start again soon) until after the Easter holidays.
We are in for a long few weeks, especially since the sun is shining and park trips or wandering in our local woodland have never looked more appealing!
I should have taken you seriously when you continued complaining, but you do make a fair song and dance of the smallest of bumps – as I did before you. Next time (hopefully a long while off!) I will pay more attention and check you over again later in the day.
But as for the park…… I’m beginning to think it might be cursed and should be avoided at all costs!!!
Keep your feet up, I’m sorry in advance for all the nagging I’m going to do over the next few weeks.
Love, Mummy x
To my boys 