The Boy Who Might Live

What a weekend!!! We had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday at my sister's house and from there on out the weekend just got crazier and crazier. Our Mark will be THE ONE...you know...the one to give me gray hair, the one to send me to an early grave, the one to have me hollering for the loony bin. Bless his little heart, I love him completely, but he gives me heartburn.

After dinner on Thursday we took all the kids to "Enchanted", which I highly recommend. We loved it. Anywho, halfway through the movie I looked to see Mark picking at the back of his head. I leaned way forward to see what the trouble was and he had a wad of gum stuck in his hair. I pondered about where he got the gum, for I certainly did not give it to him. He explained in a loud whisper he had gotten it off the bottom of the seat. I asked him if he had put it in his mouth...nope...just his hair. He was too polite to stick it back under the seat and opted for the next best place. We had to cut it out clear to the scalp. He looks like a dog with mange.

And yet he keeps continuing on-

On Sunday while I was unpacking from the weekend, James was at work, Nate was bathing, Tess was crying to be fed and Mark was doing a flying sukahara off the counter. From the nether regions of our little home Mark let out a blood curdling scream. He ran to me in the bedroom with his arm hanging at a freaky, weird angle. He had finally done what James and I knew would happen at some point in parenthood. The arm was no doubt broke. Amidst the crying we dressed a slick Nate, popped a pacifier in Tess's mouth and hurried out the door to the ER. I dropped Livvy and Nate off at a friends while Mark lamented in the back that, "I will never color again!" I reminded him that it was his left arm and not his right that was broke. He was still good to go in the coloring world. After x-rays we learned he had broke the arm just above the elbow and would need surgery. YIKES! I actually started crying when I heard this. What I thought was a simple break had turned into something much more. I started to panic because I had been unable to contact James at work. The hospital was kind enough to use their direct line to the Sheriff's office and dispatch got a hold of him, he had been on a pursuit...

By this time the drugs had worked their magic and Mark had drifted off to sleep. James arrived in time to give Mark a quick blessing and he was wheeled into surgery at 10:00 p.m. where 2 pins were placed to connect his upper arm to his lower arm. It sounded yucky to me. He was taken great care of and the nurses loved his little personality. We are home and doing surprisingly well. You can tell his arm hurts, but he is handling it like a trooper. The biggest worry is what to do with his busy little mind all day. I'm wore out! He gets his hard cast on Friday and is excited that all of the Disney characters will get to sign it. The rest of us will not be allowed we've been warned.

With 4 kids you have to expect things like gum in hair and broken bones. And just think...we are only 8 years into this parenting thing. We know it wasn't our last night spent at a hospital jumping up at every sound our child made.