Twisted

I was simply turning to explain some nonsense to the boys when my knee decided to be rather uncooperative. I can't really even explain what happened but I had the sensation that my knee temporarily dislocated, I heard an icky pop, and I was immediately in a lot of pain. From standing to falling in mid-sentence, the boys thought their mommy was being funny. As I tuned out the world and felt the pain, I tried to figure out what had just happened and tried to figure out how I was supposed to take care of my boys when I didn't think I could even walk. As they all swooped in like puppies on a person who has laid down on the ground for wrestling time, I tried to fend off my babies in order to protect my now throbbing knee. As I got my senses back somewhat, I pulled myself across the kitchen floor and made a one-legged attempt at standing and reaching the phone.

Meanwhile, my husband saw our home number pop up on his work phone caller ID and he prepared himself for either a stressed-out wife or a casual conversation about one of his son's most recent antics. Instead he heard a wife in pain asking him to come home now. He left but it was going to take him an hour and a half to get home since he bikes and takes the train. (In Dallas, an hour commute is common so an hour and a half isn't that big of a deal.)

I couldn't figure out how I was going to take care of the boys for an hour and a half so I called my mother. Answering the phone she heard her normally cheerful daughter beg her to come over to help. She would be here in 20 minutes.

Twenty minutes isn't that long unless you have 3 boys 3.5 and under. I managed to make my way to the couch nearest the front door and laid down. All 3 boys joined me and I explained that mommy hurt her leg but that Mammaw was coming over. I asked them to be very good for me and, with the exception of one brief toy-stealing battle across my lap, they were. My leg screamed with pain and I tried not to stress out about what the heck I had done to my knee (and ultimately what the hell were we going to do if I did hurt myself badly). Gaining a little more confidence with the situation, I began to slowly bend and straighten my leg to see if I could do it. Completely absorbed in the task of cautious movement, I was initially unaware of Dylan, the one child now remaining beside me (Evan and Neil were busy doing something else). As I bent and straightened my knee, I happened to look at Dylan at the foot of the couch: My little almost-20 month old baby was laid back on the couch bending and straightening his leg too.

My distressed and anxious heart warmed and I laughed. Looking at me, he laughed then bent and straightened his leg again and again, each time followed by a giggle. My little precious babe was so cute as he did this and I relaxed and decided that we would be fine no matter what I did to my knee. He gave me what I really needed: not just an ice pack, pain meds and an x-ray but a pure, sweet and simple laugh.

A few minutes later my Mom showed up and corralled the babes, gave me the ice pack and the pain meds that I did actually need. I decided rushing off to the ER wasn't necessary and that I likely just sprained the tar out of my knee. An hour and a half after my call, my sweaty husband (from riding in the hot weather) rushed through the door to see how I was doing and to take on the nightly baby duties. Shortly after that, my Dad came to bring crutches. We then drank beer, ate nachos and put the babies down for the night.

Today, I awoke with a really sore and stiff knee but I think it's improving - either that or it's the pain meds I'm on. Either way, we'll be ok even if my knee isn't completely great. At least I can walk somewhat, I can definitely laugh and I have precious babes who can help me do so.