Good As New

Emily broke her arm at the beginning of December. She was climbing the ladder on the boy's bunk-bed and lost her balance. The thud was so loud, I thought she had banged her head on the ground. Turned out to be her elbow that had pounded into the carpet and was broken in two places. She was such a trooper through all the x-rays, appointments and awkward baths. She thought the worst part was having her pajama arm cut off so the doctor could put on the bandage.

She thought the best part was having people sign her cast. If she was ever feeling shy about showing people her arm, I could just get out the Sharpie and she would point out a spot for their signature. When people asked her what happened she would always look at me and say, "Mommy." This made it sound like I was to blame for the broken arm when really she just wanted me to tell the story. For about a week after she got her cast off I actually thought she might not be right-handed anymore. She had gotten so good at doing things with her left hand.

Here she is getting ready to have her cast removed. She was all smiles until she realized the loud, buzzing machine was actually going to touch her arm.