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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.
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28 June 2006



On a beautiful day in May I walked through the school doors and signed in at the office. I pinned my Guest pass to my dress and took the stairs to Miles' classroom.

It was the Mother's Day Tea Party.

I was escorted to my seat by Miles and presented with a gift of three plastic spoons, each dipped in chocolate, for stirring into coffee or cocoa.

The kids put on a play about mothers and then served the moms (and a couple of dads, and the school nurse, who was filling in for Anthony's mom, since she couldn't be there) tea and cookies.

I sat with Miles and he read me a book. The 3:00 bell was about to ring and so I leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "You can go to after-school care and I'll pick you up later, or you can come downtown with me and help me bake a cake at home!"

"I want to go with you!"

"Done! Let's bail."

I had an errand to run downtown, but it would be fast. We parked the car and walked a couple of blocks to the housewares store. My springform pan had been deformed in an unfortunate incident involving Jack's entire body weight standing on it.

New pan in hand we started back toward the car. Miles jogged ahead of me, running on the ledges of the concrete planters containing trees and flowers.

"Slow down, baby," I called, too late.

Miles went down about ten feet in front of me. I kept walking toward him.

I'm a pretty laid-back mom, I don't run to my children's aid the second they stumble. And Miles has done his share of stumbling. But this time he wasn't jumping up and shaking it off.

I rushed to him, lying face-down on the sidewalk, arms out in front of his body. He was whimpering. His right wrist was at a decidedly wonky angle.

"Oh, honey, okay, okay," I picked him up and rushed to the car which was, thankfully, right in front of where he'd fallen. I buckled him into his carseat and drove to the nearest hospital.

On the way I called my mother.

"We're on our way to the emergency room; Miles has broken his arm."

"You're KIDDING ME!"

"Yes, mother, I am kidding you. COME on!"

"Are you sure?"

"Would I say his arm was broken if I wasn't sure?"

I hung up the phone.


"Yes, baby?"

"Is my arm broken?"

"Yes, sweetie, it is."

"Owieowie, ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts, owieowieowie..."

"I know it does, baby, I'm so sorry. And you're being very brave. Can you try to take deep breaths and relax?"

We got to the hospital in less than five minutes. My mother met us there.

At a point, sitting in the room in the ER, Miles said to me, sitting beside him, "I'm really tired...I just want to go to sleep so my arm will stop hurting."

"Do you want me to turn off the overhead light? Is it too bright?"

"Yes, please."

My kid's arm is broken in half and he says 'yes, please.' Unbelievable.

I turned off the overhead light and my mom stood next to the gurney, stroking Miles' leg.

"Nanny, please stop that," he said.

I smiled. He's like me.

I can handle a lot of pain. What I can't handle is someone putting their hands on me in a soothing fashion when I'm in pain. Seriously? Just let me check out and I'll be fine.

Miles turned his head and shut his eyes, wincing every once in a while.

After waiting a total of four hours for his stomach to clear the cookie he ate that afternoon, the orthopedic surgeon came to set the arm.

"Hey, John."

"Madeline Glass? How are you? Is this your boy?"

"Yeah, this is Miles. Miles, this is Dr. Siegler."

"You sure broke your arm, young man! Does it hurt now?"

"No, I took the bitter medicine that tasted bad and now my pain is a zero! When we came, I was a ten, but now I'm a zero...maybe even less than a zero! Hey, that curtain is really colorful, but I like the one in my bedroom better, it's blue and yellow and red and has planets on it..."

Uh, yeah, my kid was totally stoned.

"Madeline, it's a pretty clean break, which is good, but the bones need to be reset. It's loud and nasty and it's best if Miles has no memory of it, so we usually anesthetize kids his age."

"Oh, totally. Go for it."

The door opened and the anesthesiologist walked in.

"Is this....Miles?"

He looked up from his clipboard. This was becoming comical.

"Hey, Dr. Cranston."

"Maddie Glass! How are you? I didn't realize you were back in town!"

"Yeah, we've been here for a few years now. How's Jeremy?"

BOTH these men have sons who were in my high school class. At least I didn't date either of them. Or their sons. Heh.

I was invited to stay in the room for the procedure. I passed.

When we finally got home, Miles had a huge splint on his arm and a bottle of Tylenol with Codeine.

He never needed it.


Anonymous Incorrigible Girl said...

Sounds like my lil guy...he will sleep through stitches and dental work just so he doesnt have to deal with it ;) Tough guy that Miles. *hugs for the momma though*

Blogger Ryder said...

Know how it feel to have an injured child. hope the little guy is doing well. Along with you of course..

Blogger Freya said...

Aww, sweetie! A big smooch for you and a gentle one for him. Emergency rooms with hurt kiddos are no fun at all (oh do I know this, LOL).

I'm glad he's all right now.


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