I suppose I could've just told you that Phoebe fractured her leg in a tramp incident, but that would make for a boring story, wouldn't it?
here's the scoop:
a couple weeks ago, the kids set up a ladder from which they would jump off of and onto the tramp. I mentioned s e v e r a l times (to anyone that cared to listen) to "PLEASE take the ladder down" because my motherly instincts were telling me that sooner or later, someone was going to get hurt. turns out, my request fell on deaf ears and motherly instincts was right once again.
rewind to last monday evening (the day I got home from the hospital). I was kicking back on the couch with Scarlett and Gary was chatting with his brother on the phone. the kids were outside jumping being rowdy on the tramp. I was just thinking that I should tell Jake to take the ladder down when suddenly, the air is permeated by a blood curdling scream coming from the backyard. just as I flop Scarlett down and bolt ease off the couch, Chloe comes in carrying/half-dragging Phoebe, who's yelling her knee hurts and she can't walk.
what happened? I'm answered with a chorus of I don't knows and I didn't see its. you mean to tell me not a single one of you witnessed what went down? well, um, it was Sawyer, someone pipes up. he leaped off the ladder... you know, the one you told us to take down... and landed on Phoebe's leg. well, at least they felt guilty. and where is Sawyer? he ran off. great.
while I perform a quick assessment on Phoebe, Gary cuts his phone conversation short (at this point, he can't hear over the shrieking, anyway) and tracks down a very remorseful Sawyer. we determine that yes, he did land on her leg, and yes, it was an accident.
we finally get Phoebe to calm down. there doesn't appear to be any swelling, so we decide to wait and see how she does over the next few days. besides the fact, there just wasn't any time to bring her in. (not to mention I was pretty much fresh off the delivery table).
by friday, she was still refusing to walk or bear any weight on her leg. I schedule an appointment for her. thankfully, Gary had taken the day off.
Phoebe pitches a fit when she finds out she's going to the doctor. Gary hauls her off into the van kicking and screaming. I'm glad it's him and not me.
the doc determines an xray is needed. when the xray tech guy shows up, Phoebe informs him, "I don't like boy doctors." nice. she did cooperate, albeit barely, and sure enough, the tibia was fractured just below the knee.
off to the orthopedic doc to get it casted. Phoebe throws another fit. it took the entire staff + Gary to pin her down and get the cast on. Phoebe hollered and screamed and fought tooth and nail and by the end, everyone was sweating bullets. oh my, what a stubborn thing. she definitely takes after her dad that way. (um, why do I sense you guys aren't believing me? :)
Phoebe ended up with a full leg cast, which will be on for 4 weeks. at first, she demanded to be carried everywhere. when she realized that wasn't going to happen, she resorted to crawling and dragging the casted leg behind her. she has since figured out how to walk with it, and Gary has nicknamed her "clunk". (due to the clunking noise the cast makes as she walks across the wood floor)
phew! guess I was rather long winded.
neon pink was the color of choice. and in case you were wondering, this makes for the 4th broken bone in the history of our child raising career. what does that mean? reckless kids or inattentive parenting? eek.
signed by DAD. and all the Kiviahde cousins.
she doesn't seem to mind it that much...
her and Ella fight daily over who gets to hold Scarlett.
oh the love.