What a weekend...

Boys will be boys, they say, but our boys are making me grey!

As accidents often happen, the call came unexpectedly as I was enjoying a peaceful Friday morning at home. Glancing at the phone as it rang, it was the boys' school. I grimaced, as these calls are often from the nurses office. Sure enough, there had been an accident on the playground. This is never good news. Colton collided with another boy at recess and both were hurt. I was told that Colton's permanent front tooth had fallen victim to the collision and was MIA. Otherwise, he was fine, but they thought he should go home.

I jumped in the car and sped off, praying as I drove. Walking into the office minutes later, the sweet staff immediately started to apologize. This, too, is never good news. Around the corner walked my little man, red dirt smeared up one side of his face and a bandage on his arm. His lips were closed and his bright blue eyes looked up at me like a scared puppy. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yea, I broke my tooth," he said, not offering me a peek.

"Can I see?" I asked bravely.

(Don't you love it when other people have no idea how to react or what to say?  As he courageously showed me his broken tooth, other mothers in the office, who had gathered for the great unveiling, gasped and covered their mouths as if my poor child is maimed beyond recognition.  "That's awful," one of them blurted out, loudly enough for Colton to hear.)

Ignoring them, I hunkered down and hugged my rugged boy, "It's going to be just fine. Our dentist will patch you up good as new!" The encouraging words tumbled awkwardly out of my mouth, as much for me as for him.  Hidden behind my brave face, my stomach was rolling over as nausia set in.

Driving home, he explained how it happened. "I was running to first base as fast as I could. I never saw the other boy, but he must have run right in front of me. My friend was the one who told me my tooth was gone, I didn't know it fell out. I'm not sure if it fell off when I ran into the boy's face or when I hit the ground.  We looked everywhere for my tooth, mom, but we never found it. I think I might have swallowed it."

"It's okay, honey. It doesn't matter. We'll get it fixed and you'll be just fine," I said, reassuring both of us.  Turns out, the little boy on the other end of the collision suffered a dislocated jaw and ended up with a black eye. Boys - you gotta love 'em!

The next morning, the boys and I set out for Buck’s Little League baseball practice.  It was a beautiful Saturday morning and we were all looking forward to the day.  As Buck and his teammates practiced, Colton and I set up our folding chairs and chatted about what a great day it was. The sun was shining and the air was breezy and cool.

Not long into practice, Buck got ready to take his turn batting. He stepped up to the plate, anxious to hit while I took a quick moment to tuck a few things into my purse.  Looking down, consumed with my task, I was shaken by unfamiliar moaning sounds. Looking up, my Buckley was crumpled onto home plate and his coach was kneeling over him. I was sure he’d get up, so I sat calmly and listened. The moaning got louder as his coach continued evaluating my broken boy. I stood, but I didn’t move. I waited another second and then I walked towards the backstop. My son wasn’t moving and his coach motioned for me to come over. 

Kneeling beside Buck, his coach told me quietly to “call 911 now”.  I don’t remember how I got to my phone, but I paced away from the field as I told the dispatcher the address of the school. As promised, help came quickly as the large fire engine rolled up. The ambulance soon followed and the firefighters made their way to Buck.

Buck’s coach sent the other 11 boys to the outfield with the other coach, so they would not be alarmed by what was happening at home plate.  The firemen were good, kind, careful and quiet, working together to help Buck. I answered their questions as they worked. Slowly, they cut Buck’s sock off as well as his sliding pants, revealing an obvious problem with Buck’s right knee as it had dislocated to the right side of his leg.  It looked hideous. My sweet boy was so brave and so quiet. He never cried, only whimpered and moaned. The firefighters carefully splinted his leg and loaded him onto the stretcher. As they strapped Buck to the stretcher, his coach gathered the boys in close to give my sweet boy a round of applause.  That was the only time I thought I might cry. Their little faces so full of concern as they said, “It’ll be ok, Buck.  Feel better.” 

I rode in the ambulance with Buck and it was such a long, slow, bumpy trip. After arriving in the ER, finally getting some morphine for pain, two doctors came in and quickly re-set Buck’s knee.  It was amazingly fast and immediately Buck felt some relief. X-rays revealed no fracture and with a knee brace and crutches, we were headed home.

Follow-ups with dentists and doctors all happened this week.  Colton’s tooth looks terrific and Buck is in a new, larger brace.  It looks like Buck will be in a brace for much of the summer, but we’re grateful that healing will come.  It’s not happening as fast as he’d like it to, but all in God’s time.