Or so the saying goes. And perhaps that may be true for the boys. But I’m beginning to wonder if all the 3 Amigos’ falls, bumps, bruises, scrapes, gashes, maladies and injuries aren’t going to put me in an early grave. This stuff can stress out an old mama like me.
So here we are, tending to Houston’s mending arm and dealing with all the to-dos that come along with his recovery: cast removal on 8/6; getting a removable hard splint; the twins and I accompanying him to physical therapy twice a week; applying a heat pad and doing arm-extension exercises at home; keeping the arm safe, etc.
But really, things are good. Houston has gained back a lot of flexibility, mobility, strength and use, especially in extending his arm out straight. In fact, he improved by 5 degrees just this week.
Houston does have ways to go with bending his arm, though, which is not surprising due to the severity of his break. We’re optimistic overall and are just taking it one day at a time. Please still keep our tough guy in your prayers!
“Write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble.” — Benjamin Franklin
So on 8/14, we met some of our CC friends at a park few towns over for some fun in the unseasonably temperate weather. Houston worked his arm responsibly and the twins had great success in bike riding on the playground’s flat, paved surface.
As I was packing up the van, I heard Zeke wailing. He had fallen from the play equipment and had a huge, golf-ball size lump on the back of his head. I think I went into mother shock ’cause some of the details after that are kind of blurry.
I didn’t see the accident and there are differing accounts as to what happened. Some eye-witness parents told me that Zeke hit his head on a metal pole when coming down, while the kids said his head only hit the ground (which was luckily covered with ultra-safe shredded-rubber mulch).
But what everyone did agree on is that Zeke fell from a very high height, which Miss Christie estimated to be about 15 feet. And thank God my dear friend was there ’cause I was pretty much speaking in tongues when I called Stephen, so he had to talk to Christie to figure out what had happened and then the best course of action.
Fortunately, Zeke wasn’t puking or blacking out or doing anything much other than crying. But due to the extreme elevation of his plummeting descent, Stephen wanted me to meet him at the ER. So, Christie led me out of the semi-unfamiliar town to the the highway, until I was on a recognizable route and could speed away toward the hospital.
The CT-scan showed that all of the swelling was happening on the outside of Zeke’s head and that his brain was fine — no bleeding or contusions or distension going on inside my sweet boy’s head. Thanks (again), Lord!
And according to Zeke, he and Asher had been playing an intense game on the towering platform, which required him to chase Asher with his eyes … wait for it … closed! I’m telling ya, I really abhor helicopter moms, constantly hovering over their kids and their every move.
“Raising children is an uncertain thing; success is reached only after a life of battle and worry.” — Democritus
But perhaps I should take a closer look at this modern phenomena and attempt to reattach the umbilical cord, for safety concerns, of course. Obviously, I’m kidding.
But c’mon … can’t my boys just be a little more careful? Or do I have to become an overbearing, overprotective zealot? Surely, there’s a compromise somewhere in there. Hopefully, we’ll figure all that out before I have a trauma-induced heart attack!
Even if the self-induced injuries were nil, there are still always medical concerns that can eat away at a parent. As you know, Houston has Horner’s Syndrome, which we were fairly certain was caused by an injury to his sympathetic pathway during birth.
Yet, there was always that slight concern that the condition was due to something other than birth trauma, like a mass or tumor in the chest or neck, which in turn, affects the ocular muscles. Our local eye doctor has always been great and given Houston phenomenal care.
But with Houston’s semi-frequent headaches, auras and nosebleeds (and Obama-care looming), we wanted to put to rest any serious concerns once and for all. So, we headed to the Duke Eye Center on Tuesday to see one of the country’s leading pediatric neuro-opthalmologists.
As we had hoped and prayed, it was confirmed that Houston’s syndrome is indeed congenital and, thankfully, not a severe case at that. The doc said we might want to consider cosmetic surgery for his ptosis down the road.
Stephen and I figure that we’ll discuss the eye-lid-correction procedure (which is a routine, day-surgery kind of thing) with Houston when he’s older and can make an informed decision on his own. But for now, all is well.
Other than all that heart-rending medical stuff with the kids, I recently underwent my first mammogram, which was pure torture! I also found out that I now have tendonitis in my left thumb. I love the wisdom that comes with age, but I could surely do without this lame body!
August hasn’t been all doctors and hospitals, though. We really have managed to have quite a good month regardless of all the healthcare happenings.
On 8/7, Miss Christie had us over for cupcakes and ice cream for Jackson’s 4th birthday. We then hit their neighborhood pool for what was our first swim since Houston’s accident. Everyone took like fishes to water, and it was a pleasant, injury-free outing.
On 8/12, we went to the sprayground for the very first time this summer with Miss Beth and the boys. We had a grand time and plan on going again tomorrow with the J-Crew.
On 8/13, I took the dudes to see Despicable Me 2, which was Gabriel and Zeke’s first real movie (meaning at the theater and not a dollar flick). Their obsession with Gru and company continues unabated, so much so that we are even toying with the idea of them dressing as minions for Halloween.
Another thing the 3 Amigos are really into is Pink Floyd. It started when Daddy and they watched a documentary about the catastrophic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in Pompeii in 79 AD.
Somehow, this morphed into viewing video clips of Live at Pompeii, the 1972 concert film in which the band performs in one of the Italian city’s ancient amphitheaters. The boys are especially enthusiastic about the movie’s version of the ethereal song “Echoes.”
Also on their fave Floyd playlist is GoodBye Blue Sky from the 1979 masterpiece, The Wall. Even though it’s a spooky, foreboding song about the Blitz of the U.K. by Nazi Luftwaffe during WWII, the dudes find it utterly appealing.
From British progressive rock and American punk (particularly The Ramones’ Beat on the Brat), to classic country and contemporary Christian hits on K-Love, the kids have quite a diverse ear for music. And luckily, Stephen and I would have it no other way!
Last weekend, Stephen and the boys went to the mountains for the annual Houston Family Reunion. Other than the accidental deaths of Amarillo (a yellow caterpillar from home) and Zebra (a found caterpillar from Granny’s), they enjoyed seeing family, some from nearby and others from afar.
I stayed behind to clean and reorganize the house, since we had our walls, ceilings and all trim professionally painted earlier in the week. The mess was definitely similar to that of a move and my work is not yet complete. Sigh.
But the casa already looks great! It’s amazing how much dirt and funk some spackle, primer and a fresh coat of quality paint in beautiful colors can hide. Plus, I’m confident I’ll have things in working order by the official kick-off our homeschool year on 9/3. Yee haw!