Today, our chaotic week improved. Today, Henry had his splint replaced with a cast. A wonderfully hard, unable to slip off his broken little leg cast.
As you are likely aware, Henry broke his leg on Sunday afternoon. He has been in an Ace Bandage splint ever since–a pesky little accessory that slipped off and had to be rewrapped multiple times over the past couple days much to the chagrin of Aaron and I. While it was a real pain to us…it was a mere “pain,” to Henry, who barely slowed down to acknowledge it– he repeatedly and proudly dragged it or scooted it across the living room last night—hence the slipping off. Kids are amazingly resourceful little creatures.
Also, apparently, kids are like salamanders, according to Dr. Bob, the pediatric orthopedist who supervised Henry’s casting today–salamanders in that if you cut off their limb…it just comes right back. In fact, our little salamander will have to wear this cast for just three weeks—not four to six like we were told in the emergency room! This news made my whole week. Three weeks of sponge baths and catering to each and every whim of a 16 month old is manageable. I can wrap my mind around three weeks. Six weeks seems like a bathless, stinky, back-breaking eternity.
Dr. Bob assured us that Henry will have no problems walking or standing once the cast is removed–and that this break will not impact his growth negatively. Well, except that broken limbs in infants often OVER grow a little due to an increase in blood circulation to the break. However, he assured us, any potential difference in length of the leg would likely never be noticeable and would certainly not cause any problems for Henry. (We’re talking millimeters here, not inches.) And, most likely, it will even out in a matter of months, anyway, if that does happen.
Henry continued to be the most awesome baby patient on earth during his casting–focusing more on the other kids receiving casts in the room than his own. He wasn’t even scared of the cast saw churning away at the next table over, a very loud tool, used for removal.
Dr. Bob assured us he’d walk or at least try to walk on his cast and thankfully, that’s totally okay. There is no need to prevent him from walking or crawling or scooting but getting the cast wet is a no-no, of course. All in all….what felt like something really unmanageable, suddenly became manageable today.
Distractions are welcome right now—so, if anyone has been dying to have a playdate with Henry… (or bring us wine), now is the time! Thank you to everyone who has sent words of support over the past couple days–it means so much!
Yes, that’s Henry. And yes that’s a splint they’re putting on his leg. And yes, it turns out slides can be dangerous.
Aaron and I took Henry to the park this afternoon thinking we’d better get in all the park time possible before winter comes and rain prevents us from leaving the house. It was a beautiful, crisp fall afternoon and we were all excited for the fresh air and short walk.
We went right to the toddler playground, checking out the tiny slides first, then the bouncy walkway, then the “bumps.” Next, I suggested to Aaron that he do something I’ve suggested no less than 653 times since we first started taking Henry to the park—go down the big, twisty slide with Henry in his lap… a slide that isn’t safe for him to go down on his own yet.
So, down they went.
And it was all going swimmingly until the last inch or so, when Henry’s little foot got caught under Aaron.
Screaming ensued instantly. I knew within minutes that something was really wrong despite any physical signs like swelling or bruising. Henry rarely cries for more than 15 seconds at a time and this was nonstop.
We quickly made the walk home–a long walk that had seemed so short just minutes before. We jumped in the car and took him to the hospital. Once we got cold air on him and got him settled in the car, he calmed down, thankfully and zoned out, too exhausted to cry any longer.
We couldn’t have predicted this but we arrived with a little guy who was the best patient ever—from blood pressure cuff to x-ray to splint, he sat quietly in my arms and barely protested. When the doctor came in to tell us it was a spiral fracture on his lower, left leg bone, Henry played peek-a-boo with him and giggled at the faces he made. He was braver and in better spirits than I would ever have been and actually seemed to enjoy all the attention. (I’ve always said he was a diva!)
Apparently, the fracture he got is so common that it even has a nickname—”The Toddler’s Fracture.” The doctor assured us that there would be no long term harm, no surgery required and very little to worry about–you know…other than having a toddler in a cast for four to six weeks, which sounds like a real party.
Expressing my trepidation about disruption of development to the doctor only made him smile. He reassured me that babies are resilient and that we’d probably see him dragging his cast around as soon as he got used to it. He also feels strongly that he’ll be up and walking as soon as he’s out of his cast—no set-backs to worry about.
So, we were all thrilled to get such good news in the face of bad news.
On the other hand, Aaron and I are pretty bummed out tonight. After all was said and done and we got Henry tucked into bed, I finally lost it, but quickly started laughing when I considered the irony of it all. I mean—I spend like 4000% of my life worrying about Henry and trying to protect him… yet something I suggested, something that passed my ridiculous level of safety for Henry, ended up causing him so much pain. It seems really unfair but just goes to prove that whole “we have no control” thing.
Though, I’ll keep trying. That’s just me.
When Dad and Kim rolled into town last week to celebrate Henry’s first birthday, it was only natural that we’d pre-funk in wine country—our shared favorite place in Oregon. So, Friday morning we dropped Henry off at school and off we went into a beautiful day full of delicious tastings!
We started at Patricia Green Cellars, a vineyard that opens just eight times per year to the public. Aaron has a connection there, however, who agreed to host a tasting for us–and what a tasting it was! Turns out his connection is one of the two main winemakers who gave us one the most personal and lovely tastings we’ve ever had… with what must have been 10 wines over nearly two hours! An added attraction was Chompers, the house wine dog who stayed close for pets in between tastings.
After our marathon tasting at Patricia Green, we popped over to an old favorite, Torii Mor, which has one of the prettiest tasting decks in wine country.
And finally, ready to take on just one more tasting challenge, we made our way to our favorite of favorites… Adelsheim. Dad is a member of their wine club so they anticipated our arrival, having several delicious options on the menu, including a 2008 Vintage 31 Pinot Noir–a three part blend aged for five years. Not surprisingly, it was delicious. Sadly, at $180/bottle, however, the taste was as close as Aaron and I will ever get to it. That said, we walked away with several bottles of Adelsheim’s Pinot Blanc which is my favorite wine of all time (right now)—so, all in all, a success! (at least for this girl!)
So, after a mediocre reception for the birthday cake at his big bash on Saturday, we, once again attempted cake last night–on Henry’s actual first birthday, with just the three of us—and it was a scene.
My child—yes, the child I bore from my sugar coated womb—seriously debated between veggie burger remnants and the most delicious piece of cake he’s ever had (literally). The only explanation I have for such outrageous behavior is that he is being raised in Portland, land of the vegetables, haters of the sugar and eats a totally vegetarian diet at his school, which doesn’t serve meat…or sugar?
In the end, he chose wisely, eventually succumbing to the siren call of two inches of frosting, chocolate and vanilla–but not before loudly protesting me making him wear his official birthday party hat, of course.
Once we achieved frosting face, we had the added pleasure of watching in the baby monitor as a mad sugar rush cascaded through his tiny self creeping, crawling in laps around his crib for nearly an hour after bed time.
Today our little Henry turns one whole year old. The past year has been simultaneously the slowest and fastest year of my life but through it all I’ve learned to love like I’ve never loved anyone before (except Aaron, of course).
To celebrate, we had a true Jennie Day-Burget style celebration on Saturday, complete with balloons, bubbles and bouncy balls. We turned the house yellow (his and my favorite color) and Henry’s grown-up and kid friends came en masse. Despite his somewhat speculative nature about new things, I think he had a really good time!
Happy First Birthday, My Tiny Love!
Henry is nothing if not personable and feeling.
He’s sweet and loving.
In short, he has no problems sharing his feelings. Nope, no problems at all–we never doubt his happiness, his sadness or his annoyance at our utter stupidity.
“WHY would you make me wear this coat to protect me from the pounding rain today, you idiot? I will NOT, I repeat, will NOT stick my arm in that arm hole.” or “Who do you think you are with your prunes and your spinach? I’m not going to eat that crap? Don’t you even know who I am? I’m HTDB! I OWN you! (truth)”
Thus, the kid with a million emotions had zero problems sharing his feelings about having his school photo taken last month…or five months prior. (See: Exhibit)
Here is how I would caption these two gems:
Left: “Stoned tiny soccer hooligan with a penchant for plaid and the Pittsburgh Pirates appeases photographer with smug grin–sticks tongue out in act of defiance.” (note the glazed eyes)
Right: “Disgusted baby makes photographer cry with glares–goes on to destroy fake draw bridge prop in act of baby fury over being forced to sit through a school photo shoot against a cheesy yet ironic babbling brook background.”
The irony is that we’ve taken probably 4,321 happy photos of Henry at home with our iPhones—but try to get a professional shot of this kid and… apparently, you’ll be sorry.