IndePAINdence Day

We have a few traditions for the 4th of July. We go to either the very big Rhythm & Booms fireworks or the still-fun nearby park fireworks. We go to the church 8:00 AM fun run and pancake breakfast, and we go to the neighborhood kids-with-decorated-bikes parade followed by BBQ lunch in the park.

Last year Doug and I actually RAN the fun run route, but this year I think there were a grand total of zero runners. Well, I can't be 100% be sure because my slow pregnant self was rollerblading next to Zoe on a slow-moving scooter instead of running. My even slower casted-and-crutched husband was cooking pancakes instead of racing, which proves that God broke Doug's foot because he wants him to spend more time cooking.

When we sang the National Anthem, the number of enthusiastic singers also almost clocked in at zero, but I stepped up and tried to save us all from unpatriotic shame. My mother and older sister can testify that WE know how to SING the anthem! Don't we ladies?!?

So amid the fun of running, singing, eating, and decorating bikes, poor Zoe seems to be starting a tradition of injury on Independence Day.

Last year at the BBQ, we had fun and chatted and played on the playground for a nice long while. It was almost time to go home, and the kids were happily munching on popsicles. Zoe (not yet 3 years old) had been well fed, sheltered, and educated about dangers, but still she toddled over to a small closed grill sitting on the ground, and before I could get to her she leaned up on it, pressing both hands onto the hot metal! It was unattended (and cooling down) because lunch had long passed, but she still got burns on both hands. After soaking them in the cooler full of water, we took her home in tears.

This year, after all the kids bounced in the bouncy house (with stomachs full of pancakes and hot dogs) for nearly 2 straight hours, they decided to play on the playground. They all love the merry-go-round and I regularly push them pretty darn fast on it, with no complaints other than "FASTER!!". They were all riding on it as another neighbor girl was pushing. Zoe then tried to jump off (or slide off?). Unfortunately she fell and caught her front tooth on the metal platform! I picked her up and could see that things were not quite right!

Now the tooth is pushed back at an awkward angle (and has a metallic smear). The dentist instructed me, over the phone, to try to pull it forward again (but it fell back inward.) You can imagine how unpopular that little move made me with Zoe. The dentist says we'll have to just wait a few days to see if it toughens up, or falls out. It may stay in, but be forever crooked (forever meaning for a few years until the permanent tooth comes.)

Thank goodness it's a baby tooth, but oh! My own eyes burn with tears for Zoe's pain! I rocked her to sleep imagining that I may never have another look at her cutey toothy baby smile again. And I cry for thinking I should have been stricter about rotational speed limits.

Oh, I hope we never participate in IndePAINdence Day again.