it's a Bird, It's a Plane...Yep, It's a Plane!

This weekend all the boys went to St. George for an air show.  They went to see the Blue Angels fly.  For those of you who are not surrounded by plane lovers, the Blue Angels are the Navy’s demonstration team.  The Air Force has a similar team (the Thunderbirds) which the boys have seen on multiple occasions, but they had never seen the Blue Angels.  (I’ve learned more about airplanes in the last decade than I ever thought I would care to know.  That’s what comes from marrying into a family of airplane buffs and then having three plane lovers of my very own.)  They drove down on Friday and met up with Aunt Connie, Uncle Arrin and Uncle Cory and his family.  I hear they all had a great time.  As for me, I stayed home to go to my quilt class.  It was peaceful here.  And the boys came home filthy and happy.  It was a win-win situation.

Six Weeks is a Long Time When You Are Eight

It looks like Nathan has an injury called mallet finger.  Basically, the tendon in his finger that allows the muscles to lift up the tip of his finger has slipped out of place making it impossible to lift his finger by himself.  It is an injury that is caused by forcibly bending the finger from a straightened position and is most commonly associated with sports that involve catching balls and such.  Of course, getting a finger smashed in a door is another way to forcibly bend a finger.  The doctor said that often this kind of injury will heal on its own if the finger is kept perfectly straight for 6-8 weeks.  So Nathan will be in a splint for six weeks at which point we will follow up with a hand specialist.  We’re all hoping things will heal well so that surgery won’t be required.  Nathan is a bit bummed about needing the splint for so long, but he is managing just fine.  And although it is a bit messier than usual, Nathan’s handwriting is still neater than Daniel’s.

F.H.E.

Instead of our typical Family Home Evening, last night we had a Finger Hurting Event.  Instead of a song and a prayer, we heard a bang and a yell.  Our lesson was replaced by some basic first aid.  And the activity was a trip to the instacare.  However, we did still have our refreshments.

At about 7 o’clock last night, Matthew slammed Nathan’s right ring finger in the bathroom door.  Door slamming and the subsequent finger smashing are one of those topics that are included in the “broken record lectures.”  You know the ones I mean: the topics you have broached so often with your children that they kind of just zone out due to the repetitious nature of the conversation.  Anyway, our lecture focuses on 1) not slamming doors (which never seems to sink in) and 2) no matter what the circumstances, never ever put your fingers where a door will close.  Obviously both points could use some revisiting.

The story that Nathan and Matthew give us is that Matthew didn’t know Nathan’s fingers were in the door and Nathan didn’t know that Matthew was going to close the door.  Not much of a story, but that seems to be pretty common where finger smashing events are involved.  While he could straighten out most of his finger, Nathan could not lift the portion from the first knuckle to the tip.  It just stayed bent down which is rather disconcerting considering how difficult that is to do with an uninjured finger.  Nathan was nearly hyperventilating (Kev thinks he may have been in mild shock) and Matthew was scared half to death when Nathan and Kevin got in the car to go to the doctor.  In spite of the fact that they fight like cats and dogs, Matthew really loves his brother and he was devastated to think that he had hurt him. 

Three and a half hours later, Kev and Nathan finally got home.  While there appear to be no broken bones, the doctor had some concern that surgery will be needed to repair a displaced tendon.  He said there is a certain kind of break that lets the tendon slip from where it should be so that the tip of the finger stays bent down the way Nathan’s is.  We will get everything checked out again tomorrow or Thursday at which point the swelling should have gone down enough to be able to determine whether or not Nathan needs to be seen by an orthopedic surgeon.

Moral of the story (although it is fairly self explanatory): Don’t slam doors and no matter what the circumstances, never ever put your fingers where a door will close!  Sound familiar?

I Knew She Was Holding Out On Us

Yesterday afternoon Malia was lying on the floor playing with Nathan and Matthew.  I was sitting at the computer trying to fix the settings in my web browser (I have a five year old that is a little too computer savvy for my own good).  It was such a beautiful day that Nathan and Matthew decided to go outside to play.  A couple of minutes after they headed out the door, I realized that Malia was on her tummy with her little fingertips just inches away from the Friend magazine.  She was concentrating and stretching out her arm trying to reach it.  I hollered out to the boys to see if they had left her on her tummy (all of us have been employed in helping Malia appreciate tummy time).  They assured me that they had left her on her back.  It would appear that I was correct in the assessment that she was not rolling over simply because she did not want to.  Faced with an incentive of her own choosing, she flipped right over.  And she was happy about it. 

However, she still screams when she is done with tummy time because she hasn’t figured out how to roll back… 

Lego Land

No, we did not take a trip to the amusement park thus named.  I’m talking about how our house seems to spontaneously create Lego.  Everywhere I look, there is Lego.  And now that Malia is getting around on her own, the “you can’t leave Lego on the floor” lecture is pretty much a daily occurrence.  And yet it still seems to “mysteriously” appear all over the house.  The boys are just as baffled as I am.  (I wonder if I should add household amnesia to the common complaints of domestic deafness and blindness.)  So in my daily ramblings around the house, it is totally normal to end up with a pocketful of bricks that need to be returned to the plastic bins.  But today our house pulled a new one on me.  As I was peeking out the front window to check on Matthew as he played in the front yard, I happened to look over and see this:

While it may not be easily identifiable to the untrained eye, that is a Lego tire wedged into the space in between the molding around the window and the wall.  And of course no one knows how it got there.  At least it didn’t magically appear on the floor this time.  Maybe the lectures are actually getting through to our house…