(Written by Braydon)
We’ve always known and have often said that both our boys have an absurdly high tolerance for pain. On more than one occasion we’ve found a blood trail in the house leading to one of our kids who had cut their toe or shin or something, only to find them playing happily as though nothing had ever happened. Or we’ve seen many a crash on a bike or scooter or toy that would toppled pretty much anyone, but they bounce up with a laugh and keep going. They are not immune to pain by any stretch of the imagination, and are also acutely sensitive to touch and feeling, but they can tolerate a lot of pain. Don’t know why.
So, we’ve discovered we’re a family that loves to ski together. We took the boys when they were 3.5 and 4.5 and now at 5.5. This year, like last, we went skiing before Christmas when the lines are short and the mountain has 2 for 1 deals going on – and it’s wonderful.
We started on the bunny slope and way beyond what we expected, the boys picked up where they left off last year. Both K & O grabbed the tow rope and up they went. No poles of course, but right on up. And then right down, with a little snow plow and a little turning. A few of these little practice runs and we were off to the rest of the mountain.
We were not planning it this way, but I skied with Kyle and Heather skied with Owen. We got to the top of the lift and dumped out onto our favorite run from last year – a nice easy green trail. I followed Kyle, who, turns out, is a total speed demon, adrenaline junkie. He took off, blasting down the mountain. Now, I am a pretty aggressive skier, but he was bombing fast even for me. We went past a little tree’d area that I liked to ski through last year and flew to the bottom. Totally crazy.
Kyle and I got to the lift and waited for H and Owen. And waited, and waited and waited. Until I started to get very worried, and despite my best efforts to both hide it from him and also assure him, so did Kyle. So we took the lift back up. I imagined that Heather had a terrible accident. It did not occur to me it might be Owen.
When we got to the run, we saw Heather sitting on the snow holding Owen. A ski patrol passed me and Kyle and asked if that was them. I didn’t know what he meant, but seeing it was not normal, sent him right there. When we got there, Heather had our boy cradled in her arms, he was not moving. I was freaking out. But when Kyle and I clicked out and got close, we could see Owen was awake and ok – just very still and in a lot of pain. Thank goodness he had his helmet on. He rode the ski patrol sled down like a champ, with me and Kyle flying down behind and Heather going down too. We headed to the ski patrol room where they carried him in for an exam. Later Owen told me that he wanted to ski down between the trees like Papi had done last year. Cutie pie. Unfortunately, it was all crusty ice this year and he slammed down very very hard.
In the ski patrol room, they wanted to cut his new turtle neck shirt off, but Heather managed to get him out of it. They articulated his left arm to gauge his reaction to it and determine how hurt it was. He was able to move it forward and back and all around and they declared that no matter how high his pain tolerance, that if it was broken he would have screamed bloody murder. Which he did not. It was hurting, but not broken.
After a little recovery and an attempt at some hot chocolate, we went back out skiing again to make sure he was not too afraid and we had a great rest of the day. Owen was a bit more tentative, but had a lot of fun. Then we did it again the next day and also had a great time. Owen was again more caution, but that’s not really all that unusual for him. Kyle bombed down the mountain. People commented that if he lived in NH they would have him on the junior ski team.
Over the next few days O favored his hurt shoulder and we gave him motrin regularly for it. But generally he was himself and just seemed ok to play and move around. We went ice skating and at one point we did a long chain of 6 or so of us with Owen in the middle all holding hands and swinging around.
When we got home, his shoulder was still hurting him. We were going to make an appointment with our family doctor, but they said we should just go up to urgent care. Since that was like the emergency room, but with a 3 hour wait, we made an appointment with our local Chiropractor for the next day. But that night Owen woke up with a lot of pain.
Heather and I examined him and noticed a bump along his collar bone that we had not seen before. He was still really hurting so we decided I should take him to the emergency room – which I did. It was 11 PM.
The ER doc examined him, articulated his arm, up down, back front, pushing pulling and trying to see if it hurt. Owen said it did, this and that hurt, and mostly when the doc pushed on the bone with his thumb, but nothing dramatic. So the doc decided that he should get an x-ray to find out what was up.
Broken collar bone. Clear as day on the x-ray. Bent now, not curved. Starting to knit together, but with a little bump. Broken. Our 5.5 year old had a broken collar bone. For 8 days.
We’re taking him to the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow for a review. The ER doc both assured us that he was going to be fine and that he would have full range of motion with no limitations. But that we should have the orthopedic group look at him. So we are.
Unbelievable in so many ways on so many levels. But I guess maybe that is just our boy.
Note: the photo above was taken in MorMor and MorFar’s back yard on Christmas Eve Day. Yes, his collar bone was broken at that time.
Over the rivers (the Delaware, the Hudson, and several others)
And through the woods –and cities (of New York, Hartford, Boston, etc.)
To grandmother’s house Flicka Stuga we go
[note: MorMor & MorFar’s house was named, by them, when they built it, “Flicka Stuga,” the Swedish for “Girl’s House”… and it is aptly named]
Papi knows the way to drive the five
Through the white and drifted snow, oh!
Over the river and through the wood
Oh how much work it takes —
To prep, and plan, and shop, and scam to create the Ho Ho Ho!
But, over the river and through the wood
Is the least that we can do —
{and this is where the emotions kick in and the whole lyric/rhyming thing starts to break down…}
For what we do is absolutely menial in comparison to what MorMor and MorFar do…
My parents. They love Christmas. They bring magic to the word magic. And they share it. But, the thing is, it isn’t actually magic. It takes thought, time, energy, money, and most of all — hearts of gold — to make it all happen. My parents. They are, truly, an inspiration. I am learning from them. All that I can hope is that I will be able to carry it on for my children as my parents have done for me. The details are endless. Everywhere you look, every moment of each day spent, you see and feel what they have done to make Christmas Christmas. It is all meaningful. And for five people with the last name “Johnson-McCormick,” it is all deeply appreciated.
Over the river and through the wood
to Flicka Stuga we go
Who knows what each day or year may bring?
So we savor these memories so.
Thank you Mom and Dad!
(and really, let’s be honest– MorFar is truly awesome, but MorMor is the Mastermind — so, Mom, thanks especially to you at Christmastime. You are, for real, the best of the best.)
Will post soon about our many adventures of the past days ~
but, for now, we are thoroughly enjoying the holiday break;
trying to savor it in the moment;
without interruption for blog or otherwise;
knowing that it is a sweet fleeting time for indulging in the here and now.
For those of you checking in on us—
A Very Happy New Year!
My Dearest Ones,
Starting December 1 our Christmas Season begins. We woke up that morning and all ran downstairs in our pajamas to listen to Amy Grant’s ‘Tennessee Christmas’ in the dull light of early morning. This is our tradition and it jump-starts many others. That song is about the beauty of being right where you want to be for Christmas. With you three is right where I want to be. You fill the season with magic. I can’t imagine a better Christmas Season than the year you three were five and one; I know I say it every year, but it is absolutely true every year; I really cannot imagine it getting any better. Kyle and Owen– you believe; you two are true believers in every sense. And this year was so special as you lead the way in teaching your baby sister all that there is to know about this season. Since she has always had some kind of problem with men with facial hair (?!), we were anticipating the worst for her first encounter with Santa. We were all surprised when she wasn’t afraid and instead walked right up to the jolly man in red and proceeded to smile and give him kisses. Of course, in retrospect it shouldn’t have been surprising– she was toddling along, following, just two steps behind her big brothers, who were high-fiving and launching in to a full-blown Q & A session with Mr. Claus. “How do you get down the chimney? How do you make your reindeer fly? How do you know if kids have been good?” They were extremely relieved to be assured that they didn’t need to have been ‘perfect’ this year (“nobody’s perfect!”), but rather that they just need to have been ‘good most of the time.’ Owen, in particular, reminded us of that on numerous occasions (“It is ok if we’re not perfect! Nobody’s perfect!”). Yes, we assured you both, it is true– nobody’s perfect, and you were good most of the time. The truth is that you are good the vast majority of the time (although I’m the first to admit you drove my crazy the other minority of the time). One thing that didn’t drive me crazy this year — for the first time in five years — was putting up the Christmas Tree! We were smart and proactive this year (why weren’t we all those other years?). We put Meera to bed early and Kyle and Owen got to ‘stay up late’ to decorate the tree. But this year we started a new tradition of having the tree up and ready the night before (Papi did it while you were sleeping), so that everything was set to just decorate — and thus, allow us to just enjoy the fun part (minus the wrestling the tree up and the bickering-over-positioning-of-limbs-and-lights parts). We drank eggnog (you love it this year!!!) and truly relished in every ornament of that tree-decorating-night. You have your favorites, of course, but each of those ornaments holds meaning for us. And our tree is thus, of course, the most beautiful in the whole wide world. Meera has enjoyed pulling certain ornaments off of it repeatedly (ornaments that we placed way down low specifically for her). And we’ve all enjoyed pulling candy canes off from time to time. Jesus is, again, a huge theme this year — particularly for Kyle (our resident Theologian). Kyle doesn’t let us forget — not for a minute — that this whole Christmas ‘thing’ is actually to celebrate when Jesus was born. While Owen has a million questions about Santa, Kyle has a million about The Christmas Story. And stories we have. You love reading Christmas books at bedtime during the month of December. And oh, how nice it has been for Papi and I to have a break from The Berenstein Bears!!! You savor those Christmas books and just pour over them as you minds dance and your imaginations fly. Our house is warm. Our spirits are bright. There is a lot that is special. It is all as it should be for precious young children during this season. And that, my Dearest Ones, is the true gift that we strive to give you each year. What we get in return is the greatest gift of all.
Love, Your Mama
Yesterday Margie made Christmas cookies with the boys. This, let me tell you, is a major undertaking. A challenge of utmost proportions. To be honest, I was shocked she’d even attempt it. The flour, the colored icing, the boys… the whole thing is just a formula for crazy-making. Check out Margie’s crazy smile in the photo– that says it all (that and the fact that her comment to me as she was leaving the house was, “Tonight I’ll need an extra glass of wine!”). But they did it, and they loved it. And the end result was something they were
all very proud of!
Today I helped the boys wrap their Christmas presents. This is a
major event each year. Perhaps one of my most challenging events of the entire year. (I blogged about it two years ago
here; I guess I tried to block out last year’s
event and didn’t mention it on the blog, but I
do remember it). Have you ever tried wrapping presents with young twin boys? Young twin boys as rambunctious as my two? With not a crafty bone in their combined bodies? You should try it someday. It is a true test of your patience. I will put it this way: In the past 48 hours I’ve finished grading final exams for both of my classes and submitted the course grades for the fall semester, I wrote and submitted a scholarly review of a book proposal to NYU Press, I finished off and submitted for final publication production a major project that I’ve been working hard on for the past 3 years, and I’ve planned/prepped/packed for a major trip for a family of five… and seriously… sincerely… in all honesty… the gift wrapping
event this afternoon was the most challenging thing I’ve done in the past two days. Next year I’ve got to remember to divide the boys up and do wrapping with each one individually after Meera is in bed. Although, I can hope that it will be less challenging when they are six???
Anyway… for what it is worth… the presents all got wrapped, beautifully (they absolutely insist on a “twirly ribbon” on each one), and, as with Margie’s cookies… the end result was something we were
all very proud of — and, as with Margie… I’ll definitely be having an extra glass of wine tonight!
Any other Professor Moms out there in the midst of juggling the grading of final exams, the finishing of scholarly-projects-with-end-of-year-deadlines, and the planning-shopping-wrapping-and-giving-of-Christmas-presents??? If you’re out there, say it with me my friends, “BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE.” Much, much easier said than done. On top of the regular craze of the juggling of career – mothering – and management-of-all-that-is-family/home-life, the Christmas Season just slaps on a whole other layer. It always feels like it is teetering right on the brink of complete and utter chaos. But, add the end-of-the-semester and the making-Christmas-happen to the mix, and it makes for one seriously overextended Mama. Grade and wrap, grade and wrap, grade and wrap. Red pens for grading, red markers for wrapping. Crunch time for finishing off major projects, publishers with time-lines, editors with demands. A swamp of an email inbox. Term papers from graduate students who expect lengthy feedback. Undergraduate exams hand-written in blue books — blue books that still make me quiver with anxiety (just now, for different reasons than when I was an undergrad myself). Parties and festivities and school assemblies to go to– for work and for home. Late, late nights. Early, early mornings. Wrapping paper~ check. Tape~ check. Ribbon~ check. Lists upon lists upon lists of To Do Lists. Snowpants; wool socks; hostess gifts for every party; presents for the boys’ teachers; the stamps for that slew of Christmas cards waiting to be sent; Christmas bonuses for the mailman and for the garbage truck guys and the lawn guys (and boy oh boy do those guys deserve a bundle after putting up with K & O’s adoration all year long); gifts for the department secretary and teenager who takes care of the cat when we’re gone and the neighbors who are always there for us; extra-special-super-duper-over-the-top-present for our beloved Margie (how on earth to say ‘thank you for this year?’ to her?????); hats that fit and mittens without holes; snow boots for all five; Santa Santa Santa; planning and packing for Christmas 2009. Long, lengthy and involved To Do Lists with bullets and arrows and important notes written into the margins. And then there is that other To Do List— breathe deeply; pace yourself; remember that somehow someway it will all get done; don’t freak out like your own mother did; remember the reason for the season; try to see it through their eyes; remain calm; don’t go overboard; keep it simple; be fully present; be fully present; be fully present because they are only little once and you don’t want this all to pass in a blur of hazy sleepless stress. This is important. Be with them, be within yourself, be free to truly experience it. Much easier said than done. But I am working on it.
Tonight we mailed two letters to Santa!
(click to enlarge)
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