Okay, okay...you want the scoop on the pink arm. I feel pretty cazh about this ordeal, because, really, statistically speaking, we just knew we'd have to deal with this eventually. Of course, I thought my first kid fracture would have happened to one of the boys, but no. Leave it to the most determined and most fearless child.
So, I was making a snack of peanut butter and apples for Miles while he played with Jillian. Little did I know, he was making a barricade of large soft toys on the landing of the steps. The huge squishy square was no match for her strength. She pushed it...and went with it. All I heard was a thump. I ran to her, internally freaked out, bent down and gently stroked her back. Of course, I wanted to pick her up right away, but if medics are cautious about lifting an accident victim, I think I'll follow suit. It didn't take too long before I got over that notion and I picked her up and snuggled her for about 10 minutes while she cried.
I was still trying to figure out whether it was a "that freaked me out" cry or a "I'm in tons of pain" cry when the boys would carelessly walk in the room and ask to watch t.v. or would start singing really obnoxiously to compete with Jillian's noisy cries. seriously. They can be that clueless and insensitive. I know they're young, but c'mon?!!!
So, how did I know to take her to the hospital?
I offered her a handful of mini marshmallows. When I watched her strain to get one only halfway to her mouth and have to give up, I realized there was a huge problem. The boys were immediately sent to the neighbors and I headed to Children's ER.
Of course, she really seemed fine at the ER, but...she wasn't.