he is the consummate boy

From the "Nobody Saw That Coming" Department:

Yesterday, Magic Baby tried to stand up on the recliner in our living room. For what I swear was the 743, 301st time, I told him to sit down. Instead, he fell. Off the chair and onto the floor. The hardwood floor. Care to guess what happens when bone meets wood?

Apparently, he's not magical enough to fly.

That's right, bone loses (in this case the bone above the right elbow lost). This means we spent almost 9 hours yesterday getting him all patched up. During that time, we visited two hospitals, he got three sets of x-rays (which he hated), one i.v. (which he really hated), and was sedated for about half an hour so they could set the bone and put his cast on. Fortunately, he didn't require pins in the arm (which would have meant surgery).

Anyway, he's doing better now. He's home, and up and about (still getting used to his new center of balance) and seems in good spirits (although we're all still pretty tired from the whole ordeal). He actually doesn't seem to mind the cast, which is good because it has to stay on for 4-6 weeks. Thursday we're going to a pediatric orthopedist who will take more x-rays and make sure the bones haven't shifted (in which case he'll need pins after all). I have to say he was great about everything yesterday, though, especially considering he sat around for over six hours with a broken arm and only one dose of pain medication. I held him on my lap all day and we read books and sang songs and played goofy games with a toy rabbit my dad bought from the gift shop. He didn't mind the doctors and nurses, and really didn't even cry much. (The baby, not my dad.) He was a model patient, if I do say so myself.

Let me tell you though, nothing makes you feel worse than holding an injured baby all day knowing you were the one who could have stopped it. No blaming this one on Hubby, it was all me. And I know I can't be there all the time, but seeing him hurt still made me feel like a terrible mom. Who knows, though. Maybe some good will come out of this. Maybe he'll learn not to climb the furniture.

Although knowing him, I highly doubt it. He is two, after all.