Over the weekend, my 4-year-old managed to break her arm while falling off of her bike.  On Sunday I was recounting the events to a friend/mother of 9, at church.  I told her that I am generally an under-reacter (as opposed to an over-reacter) when it comes to my kids, but when I saw Abigail’s wrist, I knew something was wrong.

She cave me the encouragement I needed, reminding me that I should trust my instinct.  I am often made to feel negligent (mostly unintended) because of my laid-back approach.

Case in point:

Our prior living arrangements included a full flight of stairs up to the bedrooms.  Our girls were 3 and 1 1/2 at the time.  They had been properly trained on how to ascend and descend the stairs.  They had also been trained not to goof around at the top of the stairs.  We left it at that.  No baby gates to baby proof the stairs.  (we have never baby proofed).

One of the over-reacting/protective moms once commented on making sure the girls ‘were safe’.  I don’t think she intended it to come out as it did, but it sure sounded like we were fools and bad parents to deal with the stairs as we did.   (btw. we had a tumbler once, and never again…lesson learned)

Last summer Abigail (yup, same child) has a run in with my bicycle.  Her ankle was badly bruised and cut up.  We cleaned her up, iced, elevated, and watched.  I’ve played sports long enough to know what to watch for, and can tell if an injury is getting better or worse.  She couldn’t walk on it, but it didn’t appear to be anything more than a bad bruise.  It happened on a Thursday, so the weekend was right there.  I figured wait it out until the next week, and then evaluate how the ankle was doing.

We arrived at church on Sunday, with Abigail in the stroller, still unable to walk.  The consensus amongst everyone was we should really have her checked out.  I asked a nurse from our church for her professional opinion, and recommended an x-ray, just to be sure.  I was fine with that, I appreciated the concern, but ended up waiting one more day to avoid the ER.

We got the X-ray, and as I anticipated, nothing broken, just a bad sprain.

So, back to the arm.  This mother of 9 reminded me that I can trust my instinct.  Just like the X-ray on the ankle confirmed what I already knew, I don’t need to run to the doctor with every sniffle or fever to have him confirm what I already knew.  And my instinct seems to be working well, because in this case, when I saw Abigail’s wrist, I knew something was indeed wrong, and immediately headed to get it checked out.

The outcome:

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