Lately, I've been taking several trips down memory lane. I do that
daily every once in a while thinking maybe I should have done something differently while parenting my children.
I started the whole parenting process very young and although I loved my babies dearly and did the best I knew how, I can look back and see lots of mistakes!
No, I didn't break his arm! :)
I feel like I've talked about this picture before, but I went back a long way and couldn't find it, so if you've heard this story, just hop on to the next blog! NOT REALLY.....stay!
In this particular picture, it was the first day of spring break. Paul had just gone to the doctor, was on antibiotics and was supposed to be resting! Instead, he was outside climbing a tree and fell.
I was inside covered in flour with my hair in pigtails and short overalls on, making
a mess biscuits when David, who must have been in kindergarten ran in saying Paul's hurt real bad. When Paul came in it was evident he was indeed hurt. His arm was at an odd angle and he was obviously in pain.
His dad was working the evening shift and his ride picked him up about then....so I called my MIL and off we went to the emergency room. There must have been a passle of broken bones that day, we waited hours for the orthopedic doctor with Paul sitting in a wheelchair in agony for all those hours. I was so frantic and his daddy kept calling telling me what to tell the doctors. I finally told him I would find a nurse if he wanted to tell someone what to do, but I needed to stay with Paul. Looking back, I know he was sick with worry and that was his only thing to do since he couldn't get away from work and to the hospital.
My mom ran to my house and got me some presentable clothing and I washed the flour off as best I could and changed clothes in the bathroom.
After what seemed forever, a nurse came in and said the doctor was in the hospital. They took Paul for x rays and when the doctor came in he said Paul's shoulder blade was separated from something else and that he would have to take him to the operating room to fix the arm.
The nurse came to give some shots and suddenly Paul felt fine and was o.k. and wanted to go home. That boy never did like a shot! My MIL, myself and a couple of nurses held him down to get the shot and after that he was in la la land.
It all worked out fine......he was in that cast a few weeks and healed up nicely.
But did I feel guilty that he was hurt??? Oh, yea.
Over the years, they had many more bumps, bruises and all the drama that comes with childhood.....and then of course, came the teen years.
I don't think I have the time or energy to go into those years right now....but if you've had a teen, you probably know anyway.
Anyhow, just remember when you start down memory lane, there could be a bump or two, along with the guilt trip detour!