The Leg: The Verdict

It is, for real, a break. The cast is here to stay...for three to four weeks. But it all looks great - should heal up as if it never happened due to the pliable, quick healing bodies we have in our first years of life.

Now Mama must attend to the entertainment of a highly active little boy who can no longer walk or run or even crawl. (He's been scooting across the wood floors on his belly.) We may bust out the preschool curriculum that has been neglected. We will probably be baking our own snacks and doing a lot of seated art projects. Perhaps riding the kiddie train at the mall once a week?

Benjamin has been a real trooper through all of this. Because he tends to observe a lot before either getting involved or getting upset, he quietly watched as he was x-rayed and as they put on the cast. We brought games and books for the wait times and he was so patient. Despite the pain, he has had such a happiness and sweet spirit throughout!

The Leg: A Saga

Egads. I'll get to Benjamin's issues in a moment. Today I was supposed to be having brunch with my mom and grandma and my mom's out-of-town cousin and her daughter. It was supposed to be a pleasant morning until nap time - sitting outside in the lovely sun and eating chile relleno casserole and blueberry scones while sipping very strong coffee with cream in it.

But I awoke this morning to an injured dog. Actually, we arrived home late last night to find him limping around and shrieking at our touch. It was bed time, we herded him into his crate and figured he'd be better by morning. (Buckley, not Benjamin. We tried keeping Benjamin in a crate and he would have none of it.)

Well, he wasn't. And his left leg was clearly swollen, etcetera, etcetera. The only appointment that could be made with the vet was an hour into this brunch I was supposed to be part of. I went.

Now for the part you really want to hear. Long story short, I had to leave the dog at the vet (after an hour there already), put Benjamin down for a nap, wake him up early from his nap in order to pick up the dog, and return home.

But when I got home, there was a message from our health insurance provider saying that Benjamin's x-rays (from Saturday) in fact revealed a converse fracture - a hairline spiral fracture in his tibia. Because there were no orthopedic appointments available until next week, we needed to get him into an ER room tonight and get his leg splinted or cast.

So, Papa rushed home from work and we headed off. There were several mishaps along the way which I am too tired to mention, but in the end our Littlest P got carried out in a fabulous blue cast.

But, wait...there's more. This diagnosis may not, in fact, be accurate. Somehow there was an open appointment tomorrow morning, bright and early at 8:30 (sigh...) so we may go in only to have his cast removed, and perchance not even reapplied. Apparently, the "break" showed up on one x-ray, but not the other. When this happens, sometimes it's not even a break they are seeing, but an artery.

So, I will update as I get news, but for now enjoy the photo of his first cast! He's none too happy with it, I can tell ya that.

At least the dog is running around happily, high on his painkillers and anti-inflammatory shot.

Spring Flowers

Pretty, pretty, paper flowers. On Thursday, Benjamin and I made these lovely things out of a cut-up egg carton flat and some finger paint.



Mama added some beaded centers on a few when we strung them together.



And the sparkles! Did you know that they now make finger paint with glitter in it? (Mama had almost more fun than Benjamin...)



Mama was inspired by this entry on one of her new favorite blogs for Mamas and kids: The Crafty Crow.

Mama's Fault

Here's our young hero. See his bandaged ankle? It's a mild sprain, but don't let that fool ya. He's been in pain for the past 24 hours. He hasn't been able to walk on it. He won't be able to walk on it until Monday. And it's all Mama's fault.



On Friday, after tumbling class, Mama thought it would be fun to swing by this park that we do not usually get to visit. Technically, we are not allowed there as it is in a ritzy neighborhood that pays big HOA's for such a sweet playground. But being the riff-raff that we are, we do not heed class restrictions.

In the center of the playground is this two-story (at least) tall, fabulous climbing structure. It's all enclosed in bars and looks like a tree house. As Mama was watching from the ground below, Little P climbed lickety-split up all the ladders to the top level. Yikes. Mama scampered up the climbing wall and spiral stairs to catch up with him.

She did. This is not the part of the story where he hurts his ankle. No, he didn't fall from the top. Though that would make a good story, wouldn't it?

Mama got to the top before anything scary happened. Then Mama realized that the only way to get down from that level was via the narrow ladders up (which we all know is twice as hard going down as it is to come up) or the long tunnel slide.

"Benjamin, would you like to ride down the slide on Mama's lap?" Mama inquired.

"Um...yeah!" Little P agreed.

And so it went. But Little P was quite nervous. Half way down he got fearful and tried to stop us with his feet. Mama is too heavy for a little boy's feet. His little ankle bent, he started crying, and when emerging from the tunnel, he cried out, "The slide is scary!" He did not stop until he fell asleep in the car on the way home.

By Saturday, he was still crying off and on. "Ow, ow, ow, owweeeeee! It hurts, Mama!" Twas time to get to the doctor. Mama had to attend an adoption workshop, so Papa accompanied Little P to the clinic. X-rays showed that there was no permanent damage, and he came away with an immobilized foot and orders to stay off of it until Monday.

For now, he is watching a year's worth of videos in one weekend. Awesome.

Emma Was Here

Last week, Emma graced The P-Pod with a visit. So fun. We drank smoothies. We visited with Mama's family. We hit the beach, the dog park, the duck pond, and Queen Califia's Garden. We video-called Kevin so he could watch Emma and Little P playing.



In preparation for Emma's visit, we looked at photos and talked again about Benjamin's birth story. (When you were a teeny tiny baby, you were growing in Emma's tummy...) We talked about how much Emma loves him and how cool it is that she could come visit because she lives very far away. This is not new news, it's just that only so much sticks in the mind of a toddler.



Everything was easy about the visit - Emma and I have grown into a friendship beyond the relationship dictated by adoption; we mutually respect one another; we like each other; we have a lot in common - but one little thing popped up that started out awkward...



Despite all the prepping (which we do for all the out-of-town relatives), Benjamin repeatedly called Emma "Auntie Bekah". She bears some resemblance to my sister in that they are both fair-skinned, blond, and have light blue eyes. I felt bad because I could imagine how that might make a birthmother feel and because I really wanted her to know that as far as we were concerned, she is a part of Benjamin's life.



We all understood it is a two-year-old thing. Benjamin loves his aunties here in town - to be mistaken for either auntie is actually a compliment. But still...



Emma admitted it was a little hard the first day, but the sting lessened. Anyway, I share this because even when a relationship among a child, his birthmother, and the adoptive parents is ideal, weird little snags that hurt can come up. And really, it's not ideal that we live so far away from Emma; it's just the reality of our (and many adoptive families') situation.



Now for the plain old happy stuff: Benjamin is old enough to talk and interact on a really cool level. It was fun for her, and fun for me to watch him sit on her lap or run to show her something.



At the dog park, I got to show off Emma. That sounds silly, I'm sure. But really - I am proud of her courage. I am proud of the relationship we are all building. I feel blessed to have her in my life. She's like family - I would proudly show off my brother or sisters, too. A few people were caught off guard by his obvious resemblance to her. Though I am always open about his adoption, many people don't quite "get" it until they see both of us with him in person. It's funny when other people are evidently feeling awkward on our behalf, when we are all comfortable talking about it. As an adoptive parent you just have to get used to taking the reins - address what they're wondering head on, and then you can all get around to having normal conversation.



So...enjoy the rest of the photos. I am excited for the day when Benjamin can look back through the early years that he barely remembers and see how loved he has been and how we have all made it possible for him to experience her love.

Similes

For those of you who can't quite recall your literary terms, a refresher: a simile is a comparison using 'like' or 'as.'

This is Benjamin's new obsession.

While hitting the floor with a drumstick: "I'm banging like a hammer."

While lying on his back and floating his butterfly teether in the air: "It's flying like a bird."

While squinting up his eyes and fake crying: "I'm crying like a baby."

While barking at the vacuum cleaner (as Buckley does): "I'm barking like a dog."

Well, Mama is now smiling like a fool.

Portrait of a Young Artist

It starts out innocently enough...



One paintbrush. Four colors.



Then he starts getting ideas.



Perhaps two paintbrushes simultaneously would achieve the look I'm going for...



Like an addict he strives for more. Three. Then four.



He steps back to observe his work.



Returns the brushes to their respective colors...



and gleefully contemplates his next idea.



If two brushes were good, why not hands?



And then, before he can stop himself...wrists...and forearms.



He surveys the damage with nary a concern.



And it's back to work.



Who needs four colors when a great big blob of muddy purple will do?

The Lucky One

Most American children suffer too much mother and too little father.
~Gloria Steinem, New York Times, 26 August 1971

I want to share a little story about The Papa. I happen to think he is in the running for The World's Best Dad. Benjamin certainly "suffers" father with all the exuberant embraces when Papa returns from work, with bath and bed time routines, with trips to Home Depot and projects around the house, with skateboarding and bike-riding practice, and with working on the new old car. On occasion, this is evident to others.

We were walking out of Costco last week. I pushed the cart and stopped to let the woman at the door check the receipt. Benjamin had done a real doozy in his Pull-ups, so Papa had taken him to the bathroom. He emerged with a fresh diaper and no pants (they were too wet) and damp hands from washing them in the sink. Papa caught up with me at the door, and passed me, zooming Benjamin through the air like an airplane and singing, or something. Benjamin was laughing and chattering away.

Costco Employee: That is a good father. Look at him playing with his boy like that. That's special. Is he always like that?

Mama: Pretty much.

Costco Employee: That's really special. Boys need their daddies.

Mama: I'm lucky to have him.

Costco Employee: Yeah, but he's the real lucky one. (leaning out and looking at Benjamin)

I would say the same. The Papa is one present, patient, exuberant, inclusive, affectionate dad. I am fortunate to be parenting alongside such a man. And I am more in love with him than ever as I witness him emerging as such a fine father.

Oh, Erma!

I am thinking about using other people's quotes to start off my reflections on parenting. I did not plan to start this project today, but I couldn't help sharing this one with you:

When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out. ~Erma Bombeck

I only have one kid, so why do I relate so well? I also have a needy dog and a husband. My toddler is now noisy, and he like to head butt my legs or hang from the thighs of my pants - you can imagine the shape of my yoga pants these days. My dog likes to stand immediately behind me so that, on the evenings when I am exhaustedly making dinner and not paying due attention to my surroundings, I trip over him. He also stands really close to me and stares when he wants something, or follows me around nipping at my ankles.

Add The Papa into the mix, and on weekends I am running from meal to meal with little time for myself between cleaning the kitchen and starting prep for the next meal. These boys are always hungry. Until two weeks ago, we lived with another two-year-old and a baby for six months. The squabbling that went on between Amal and Benjamin at times was added nuisance. They might as well have been brothers. (And I might be using hyperbole here just a little bit, but goodness if this doesn't feel perfectly accurate on some days!)

There are afternoons where all I can do is sigh loudly, "The creatures will be the death of me!" and shake my bony wrist in the air. But that is nothing compared to the mother of three kids, a dog or two, and a husband. I clearly need more intense training to become one of these Olympian moms.

I can laugh with Erma. I can laugh with my mother, who has admitted she locked herself in the restroom on occasion - not because she had any business to attend to - but because she needed a breather from her three children under the age of six. I can only imagine. And I apologize right now, Mom, for my part in all of that.

So, Mamas, whether you hide in the playpen or the restroom, I hope you get a breather now and then. And maybe we should start off a book club with something by Ms. Bombeck.

BenTV 009 1st Bible Verse

Boys at the Park

The cast of characters:

Benjamin, or, as he calls himself, "Benamin." Notorious skateboard-riding, raised planter diving, dog-adoring, prolific talking, wild dancing, fast car loving two-year-old punk.

Judah, or, as he calls himself...I don't know what he calls himself. But he calls me "cousin." And I wish I could give him such a exciting introduction, but I don't know what his particular passions are yet. (At this age, it's a mama thing.) No! I know! On this day, he was Judah, the pineapple chewing, stick-carrying, hug giving (oh, yes, he's a cuddle-bug), two-year-old punk.

Except when he's not excited about me taking his picture.

At this particular park, a stream runs through it. Looks, pretty, no? It's actually a lot of city run-off. But it's pretty and makes us feel like we get a moment with nature.

Boys don't think about things like city grime in their play water. That's a mama's job to worry about things like that.

Sticks are so much more fun when they become fishing poles!

Almost looks like a swimmin' hole. But i' tain't natural. Still...Tom Sawyer beckons.

Oh, and the playground was fun, too. For about five minutes.

Tis the Season

...for SMOOTHIES!

Twas a beautiful warm day this week when The Mama decided to break out her trusty rusty smoothie-making skills. There was a time in the life of Mama and Papa when smoothies were a daily item on the breakfast menu. Sadly, the blender is a pain in the patootie to clean, and The Mama simply got lazy. Plus, if one is already cold (and The P-Pod is too big to adequately heat, so it's chilly in the winter), one does not need to increase the chill factor with a smoothie.


To the subject at hand: Little P loves The Smoothie. It helps that Mama has such fine culinary presentation skills. A colorful cup and a bendie straw snipped to the appropriate length can make any beverage more intriguing.

Here Little P is giving Mama his best "get on with it" look. He so badly wanted to dive into its berry deliciousness, but Mama got involved and wanted to take about 19 photos before he could get in his first slurp.

The trick to making the perfect smoothie is...well, there are actually a few tricks.

1. Don't use ice. Use frozen berries. The worst thing (in The Mama's opinion) is a smoothie that separates into something containing a layer of water on top. Gross.

2. Employ fresh pineapple. There is usually no need for any sweetener if you throw in a few chunks of fresh pineapple. (When additional sweetness is required, due to sour citrus, The Mama uses honey or agave.)

3. A dash of vanilla is so necessary.


4. Don't forget the fresh oranges. Navel or valencia work the best.

5. A bit of plain, lowfat yogurt and some sort of liquid (milk, soy milk, almond milk...) are required to attain the most desirable consistency.

Here, Little P is consuming a "mixed berry" smoothie - raspberries, blueberries, marionberries.

Mama's personal favorite is a strawberry smoothie. There is nothing like the combination of strawberry, orange, pineapple, vanilla, and dairy. But we all know that Little P STILL can't have strawberries. He's sad about that. He watches those in The P-Pod eating fresh strawberries from the farmer's market and sighs. "Benamin can't have strawberries," he says. "Strawberries give Benamin bumps." Yep. Hope you grow out of it, kid.