Hobble King
My mother was in town this weekend, and that means one thing:* A trip to the fast food restaurant playground.
My mother always likes taking the kids to a restaurant playground, and for good reason. The kids love the food and fun, and the adults love not having to listen to the kids complain about being hungry and bored. It's win-win until I have to admit how many trips we make a week to a fast food restaurant.
The problem with a playground on this visit is Tory's leg. It's still in a cast, and, theoretically, still broken. Too much physical activity could risk further injury to his leg. Maybe just as bad, a bulky cast could leave him confined to his seat while his siblings taunt him with screams of joy from the top of the slide.
Tradition is tradition, so we loaded the kids in the car and drove to the restaurant for lunch. The taunting began right after we walked in the door as the children with two good legs sprinted for the playground while I held Tory tight in line for food. Tory did everything in his 2.5-year-old frame's power to join his siblings in the playground, but I didn't want him on the playground unless I could watch him closely.
With food on a tray in hand, we walked to the seating area next to the playground, and I prepared to let Tory loose. The playground has a strict socks policy, no shoes or barefeet. I didn't see a rule against casts, though, so I slipped a sock on his good foot and let him go. I thought letting him play with his cast might be a bad idea, that his rock hard cast might hurt the equipment or another child. He was halfway up the steps before this thought entered my head, so I shrugged and hoped for the best.
Tory seemed to do well. He made it up and down the slide a few times with no screaming from him or innocent bystanders. I watched him hop feet-first off a two-foot platform, and fully expected him to scream in agony after re-injuring himself. Instead he stuck the landing like Shawn Johnson, and cheered wildly for himself.
I carried him back to the table to eat, and he stayed there for most of the rest of the visit. I think all the hobbling sapped his strength, leaving him happy to sit and eat. He may have also realized that climbing isn't much fun with a dead-weight for a leg. Either way it was good to see him moving well and without signs of pain. That makes me think his leg is healed, and he should have no problem after the cast comes off on Friday. At least I hope he doesn't have any problems because he'll keep jumping off furniture regardless of the risk of injury or re-injury.
* That I'll admit to publicly.
My mother always likes taking the kids to a restaurant playground, and for good reason. The kids love the food and fun, and the adults love not having to listen to the kids complain about being hungry and bored. It's win-win until I have to admit how many trips we make a week to a fast food restaurant.
The problem with a playground on this visit is Tory's leg. It's still in a cast, and, theoretically, still broken. Too much physical activity could risk further injury to his leg. Maybe just as bad, a bulky cast could leave him confined to his seat while his siblings taunt him with screams of joy from the top of the slide.
Tradition is tradition, so we loaded the kids in the car and drove to the restaurant for lunch. The taunting began right after we walked in the door as the children with two good legs sprinted for the playground while I held Tory tight in line for food. Tory did everything in his 2.5-year-old frame's power to join his siblings in the playground, but I didn't want him on the playground unless I could watch him closely.
With food on a tray in hand, we walked to the seating area next to the playground, and I prepared to let Tory loose. The playground has a strict socks policy, no shoes or barefeet. I didn't see a rule against casts, though, so I slipped a sock on his good foot and let him go. I thought letting him play with his cast might be a bad idea, that his rock hard cast might hurt the equipment or another child. He was halfway up the steps before this thought entered my head, so I shrugged and hoped for the best.
Tory seemed to do well. He made it up and down the slide a few times with no screaming from him or innocent bystanders. I watched him hop feet-first off a two-foot platform, and fully expected him to scream in agony after re-injuring himself. Instead he stuck the landing like Shawn Johnson, and cheered wildly for himself.
I carried him back to the table to eat, and he stayed there for most of the rest of the visit. I think all the hobbling sapped his strength, leaving him happy to sit and eat. He may have also realized that climbing isn't much fun with a dead-weight for a leg. Either way it was good to see him moving well and without signs of pain. That makes me think his leg is healed, and he should have no problem after the cast comes off on Friday. At least I hope he doesn't have any problems because he'll keep jumping off furniture regardless of the risk of injury or re-injury.
* That I'll admit to publicly.
posted by Matt at
10:03 PM
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