Well, well, well,

2011, I thought you held a lot of promise. And maybe you still do.

We got home from Utah on New Years Eve at 11 pm. (That trip needs its own post, separate from the whining I am about to do. Consider yourself warned.)

I was tired before we even got home. Really tired.

But at 2 am I awoke to strange noises through the baby monitor. Upon further inspection I found Max in his bed, struggling to breathe. Croup. The nastiest croup I have heard in all my crappy croup days, and there have been a lot.

I did a breathing treatment at home. But it did nothing. With each minute, we worried more, he was struggling so much.

I popped him in the car and we headed for the emergency room. Luckily they got us back to a room immediately and gave him another breathing treatment and oral steroids. They worked great and after a couple of hours we were home again. Back to bed.

Sunday morning I woke up feeling awful and my eye was swollen like a marshmallow. I stayed home with Max while Dan took the kids to church. Later that afternoon, I heard that Max had woken up. I went and got him from his bed. He has been so lovey, snuggly lately. He likes to rub his face on our faces and pat, pat, pat our arms, faces, legs, whatever he can reach.

And we were exchanging these pleasantries as I carried him down the stairs. Suddenly the carpet turned to ice and we were airborne. And that is how Max broke his leg.

Of course we needed another trip to the emergency room that evening to diagnose it, but after spending most of the day in our arms, refusing to stand or even crawl, it wasn't too much of a surprise.

He has a hairline fracture of his left tibia. We went to the orthopedic doctor yesterday and they put on a cast which he will wear for the next 4-6 weeks.




He still maintains his bright, happy eyes. He still hands out his loves like popcorn. He has plenty to go around.

Have I mentioned that I feel awful? Not awfully sick. My eye is back to normal too. Just awful that I fell. That his little leg bore the brunt of our fall. That he hurts. That he can't sleep. That he has to lug around a gigantic stump for the next month. That he'll have to relearn how to walk.

I know he'll never remember this. And I know it was just an accident. And everything looks worse when you're tired. And I am really tired. That's why I'm telling myself it's okay to go take a nap right now.