Murphy's Law strikes again... So, in my new 'love and logic/tough love/get real' parenting mode I had agreed with my son that he could go to a friend's house to do homework provided he found his own transportation because our cars and time were going to be tied up last night. He needed to be home by 6:30pm. To his credit he tried calling a few times but I was in a meeting and couldn't be reached. When he finally did get ahold of me at shortly after 6pm the conversation went something like this...
"Hi mom"
"What's up?"
"On my way to do homework at my friend's house some guys asked if we wanted to play a quick game of football"
"Mmmhmmm"
"So, I said okay, a quick game because we have homework to do and you know mom, I'm really only a two-hand touch kind of football guy. But, the guys said let's play tackle. And well, I had my shoes on that are too big so a few of us just decided to play in our socks. It was on the turf so no big deal, my socks are still clean (mom note: I DO NOT CARE ABOUT SOCKS GETTING DIRTY). Anyhow- they decided since no one would suspect me getting the ball that they should give it to me. So I'm running really fast and this guy comes out of no where and tackles me and I hear a pop and my foot hurt SO bad. But at least my head didn't hurt this time. So, I really can't walk home can you come get me?"
This is where that tough mom moment came in...
"Well honey, you know what our agreement was. I'm really sorry that you got hurt. You'll still need to find your own way home and don't forget that we agreed 6:30pm"
"But mom!"
"Love you honey. See you soon."
And then I started praying. And I called my mom and asked her to pray because all I could envision was my poor son hobbling home on a truly broken foot through the neighborhood where just the night before a car had stopped and offered him drugs and how I was going to explain it to my friends and family that know how seriously I take medical issues and could be so negligent. But, we're trying to raise a future, capable adult and I knew he needed to solve this one somewhat on his own. (While I was asking my mom to pray I was also asking her if she could pick him up if he decided to call and ask, thus hedging my bets)
So, at 7:30 he finally hopped in. His friend's mom had finally gotten home and driven him home. One look at his foot and I was pretty sure it was broken. So, we iced it a bit and then drove to the ER. 5 hours later my suspicions were confirmed (I'm not an MD but I do have my NBC, TLC and ABC TV doctor degrees). In the words of the doctor, "You REALLY have to be trying to break that particular bone."
So - sleep deprived and in pain (him physical, me emotional) we headed home and I've spent the day playing nurse. He gets the hard cast on Monday and will be six weeks, non-weight bearing.
On the plus side - not once did he criticize or yell about me not being willing to pick him up. And to my credit I didn't yell or criticize about his decision to play football on his way to do homework (which he did actually do.) He even said that he just knew he shouldn't - that it always comes back to bite him.
So - we're slowly seeing the emergence of the responsible young man we know is lurking in there somewhere. And I have another story to add to my list of things that will come back to haunt me 20 years from now when the kids pull out their "Well, when I was a kid you did this to me" List.
To which I'll probably reply, "Gimme a break..."
"Hi mom"
"What's up?"
"On my way to do homework at my friend's house some guys asked if we wanted to play a quick game of football"
"Mmmhmmm"
"So, I said okay, a quick game because we have homework to do and you know mom, I'm really only a two-hand touch kind of football guy. But, the guys said let's play tackle. And well, I had my shoes on that are too big so a few of us just decided to play in our socks. It was on the turf so no big deal, my socks are still clean (mom note: I DO NOT CARE ABOUT SOCKS GETTING DIRTY). Anyhow- they decided since no one would suspect me getting the ball that they should give it to me. So I'm running really fast and this guy comes out of no where and tackles me and I hear a pop and my foot hurt SO bad. But at least my head didn't hurt this time. So, I really can't walk home can you come get me?"
This is where that tough mom moment came in...
"Well honey, you know what our agreement was. I'm really sorry that you got hurt. You'll still need to find your own way home and don't forget that we agreed 6:30pm"
"But mom!"
"Love you honey. See you soon."
And then I started praying. And I called my mom and asked her to pray because all I could envision was my poor son hobbling home on a truly broken foot through the neighborhood where just the night before a car had stopped and offered him drugs and how I was going to explain it to my friends and family that know how seriously I take medical issues and could be so negligent. But, we're trying to raise a future, capable adult and I knew he needed to solve this one somewhat on his own. (While I was asking my mom to pray I was also asking her if she could pick him up if he decided to call and ask, thus hedging my bets)
So, at 7:30 he finally hopped in. His friend's mom had finally gotten home and driven him home. One look at his foot and I was pretty sure it was broken. So, we iced it a bit and then drove to the ER. 5 hours later my suspicions were confirmed (I'm not an MD but I do have my NBC, TLC and ABC TV doctor degrees). In the words of the doctor, "You REALLY have to be trying to break that particular bone."
So - sleep deprived and in pain (him physical, me emotional) we headed home and I've spent the day playing nurse. He gets the hard cast on Monday and will be six weeks, non-weight bearing.
On the plus side - not once did he criticize or yell about me not being willing to pick him up. And to my credit I didn't yell or criticize about his decision to play football on his way to do homework (which he did actually do.) He even said that he just knew he shouldn't - that it always comes back to bite him.
So - we're slowly seeing the emergence of the responsible young man we know is lurking in there somewhere. And I have another story to add to my list of things that will come back to haunt me 20 years from now when the kids pull out their "Well, when I was a kid you did this to me" List.
To which I'll probably reply, "Gimme a break..."
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