I have heard people say that bad things happen in threes.
I've always though it was some sort of old-world mumbo-jumbo. You know, something Great Aunt Moira whispered to your Mum at a distant relative's funeral.
Basically, crazy talk.
Smooch had his tonsils out the first week of May. He was FABULOUS!! He ate more popsicles than any post-tonsilectomy/adenoidectomy patient in the history of surgery.
The next morning he was up, leaping of the top bunk of the bunk beds, laughing hysterically and chasing Noggin all over the house.
I though that I was one of the special few parents who were spared the 10-14 day recovery period from said surgery.
I thought wrong.
Apparently the pain-killer/narcotics they administer in the hospital last about 48 hours...then all hell breaks loose. We had a week of constant crying and refusal to eat/drink anything.
The day I might have described as a turning-point in his healing process was actually the jumping-off point into mumbo-jumbo bad thing # two...
I hear Smooch playing quietly(!) on the top bunk in his room. I breathe a (premature) sigh of relief. Seconds later I hear a loud thud followed closely by a howl.
"I BROKE MY Aaaarrrrrmmmm!!!!!".
I hug him, reassuring him that his arm is, in fact, not broken. To help him feel better I tell him we are leaving for open play time at a local gym.
I sat for an hour, watching him play, all the while cradling a limp arm by his side. Four hours, a large helping of mom-Guilt and a trip to the ACH later and it is confirmed - Smooch's wrist is broken in two places.
The next day doesn't get much better (insert eerie music and mumbo-jumbo #three here) when he wakes up with an earache that is confirmed by our doc as an ear-infection.
After that, we leave on vacation. It turns out that the outdoor waterslide/pool at the resort we picked (just for that reason) is non-functional.
Mumbo-jumbo # Four?
Maybe Aunt Moira was onto something....
I've always though it was some sort of old-world mumbo-jumbo. You know, something Great Aunt Moira whispered to your Mum at a distant relative's funeral.
Basically, crazy talk.
Smooch had his tonsils out the first week of May. He was FABULOUS!! He ate more popsicles than any post-tonsilectomy/adenoidectomy patient in the history of surgery.
The next morning he was up, leaping of the top bunk of the bunk beds, laughing hysterically and chasing Noggin all over the house.
I though that I was one of the special few parents who were spared the 10-14 day recovery period from said surgery.
I thought wrong.
Apparently the pain-killer/narcotics they administer in the hospital last about 48 hours...then all hell breaks loose. We had a week of constant crying and refusal to eat/drink anything.
The day I might have described as a turning-point in his healing process was actually the jumping-off point into mumbo-jumbo bad thing # two...
I hear Smooch playing quietly(!) on the top bunk in his room. I breathe a (premature) sigh of relief. Seconds later I hear a loud thud followed closely by a howl.
"I BROKE MY Aaaarrrrrmmmm!!!!!".
I hug him, reassuring him that his arm is, in fact, not broken. To help him feel better I tell him we are leaving for open play time at a local gym.
I sat for an hour, watching him play, all the while cradling a limp arm by his side. Four hours, a large helping of mom-Guilt and a trip to the ACH later and it is confirmed - Smooch's wrist is broken in two places.
The next day doesn't get much better (insert eerie music and mumbo-jumbo #three here) when he wakes up with an earache that is confirmed by our doc as an ear-infection.
After that, we leave on vacation. It turns out that the outdoor waterslide/pool at the resort we picked (just for that reason) is non-functional.
Mumbo-jumbo # Four?
Maybe Aunt Moira was onto something....
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