I don't think you can tell, but Andrew's cast goes all the way up his arm to almost his armpit. Poor thing is so uncomfortable, he woke me up at 4:30 A.M. because his arm itched and hurt. Plus it was hot. And to think summer is here, and we are going to Disney World in two weeks- I feel so sorry for him.
The thing that makes me saddest is that last night before he went to bed, Andrew said, "You know, this would never have happened if I hadn't gone outside to play with Nicholas."
To which my reply was, "Yes- that's true." I knew what he was going to say next because I had felt the same thing.
"And," he said, "I didn't even want to go outside, but you made me."
I tearfully answered, "True- do you blame me for your broken arm?"
Andrew timidly said, "Kinda."
I gave my middle child a big hug, and said, "Thank you for being honest- for telling me how you feel," then I paused, hoping God would give me an intuitive thought. I was too upset to hear Him. So, I continued to hug him and said I was sorry, I blamed myself, too.
"It's okay," he said, as he hugged me back.
I went outside his room and cried to Pete, who told me not to blame myself...Andrew could have tripped and fallen anywhere, at anytime- the whole thing is in God's hand anyway. He was swinging with Nick, went over backwards, I had no control over that.
I just wished I could go back to that day one week ago, keep my mouth shut, and let Andrew be.