So last week Ben arrived at one of the big rites of passage by losing both of his two top teeth. Being that it was my "baby" these events always makes me think "this is the last time I'll have this experience." I prefer to chronicle these happy times but every once in a while a not-so-happy one invades your world--just like this past weekend.

Friday night we were able to get all three boys farmed out for sleepovers. A nice dinner on a beautiful spring evening was on the agenda when the front door swings open and Ben walks in holding his wrist and the tears were flowing. His friend's dad relayed the story of him falling off the swing and added "it's probably broken. You should get an x-ray." Being that it wasn't swollen, and being that we're typically in the "it's fine" camp, we gave him a hot bath, some Advil

Saturday morning there was no swelling so off he went to his last soccer game. This sealed the deal. An opponent got under his feet and down he went--on the same wrist. When he woke up Sunday morning with major swelling and complaining of pain, we shuttled over to the ER for a look. Three hours later they announced the ARM was broken. Huh? Although he fell on the wrist, it was a buckle fracture of the bone just above it.

Because the ER was so backed up (when is it not???) he was forced to go home with a wrap and a sling and schedule the cast for the following day. I can't recall ever spending two hours in a doctor's office of any variety and having my child in a permanent grin for all 120 minutes. A cast is a big deal when you're 8.

Here's hoping that the hot weather holds off for these next four weeks or the novelty of this lovely blue accessory will be over faster than it happened. Keep smiling, Ben!