Our summer started off with a bang. Or maybe I should use John’s words, a giant “kerplop”. David broke his right arm in two places on May 31st roller-blading. We’re at Day 17 of the awkward, heavy, itchy, hot and very very non-waterproof plaster splint. Breaking your dominant arm anytime is hard. Breaking it when you are eight years old and it’s summer is even harder. Breaking it when you are eight years old and your summer revolves around swim team and being at the pool all day is even harder than that. Breaking your arm when you are the kind of kid who spends most of every day outside climbing trees, roller-blading, skateboarding, biking, and generally running amuck may be the hardest of all. It’s been a tough start to the summer, to say the least.
David is usually not a kid who deals well with frustration or disappointment. All our kids have strengths and things they need to work on. David is generous to a fault; several times I have had to forbid him from buying his sister presents at the store. He is sensitive and empathetic. He is loving and kind. He is quite funny and often wise in a way that surprises me. He is a peace-maker and rarely selfish. But usually he is someone whose day can be undone by a missing Lego piece or a thoughtless word from a sibling. I think this might be because he has such a strong sense of fairness and kindness that he can’t understand when the world isn’t being fair and everyone isn’t being kind.
I said he usually has a hard time dealing with frustration. This has not been one of those times. He has consistently astonished me with how well he is handling this fairly major hurdle in his summer plans. The orthopedist had originally said he could get a waterproof cast last week but when we went in to the appointment felt like he needed one more week in the splint to ensure proper healing. David broke down very briefly and then kind of shook it off (a la Taylor Swift) and moved on.
I realized that, as a parent, I want the best for my kids. I told David that I would have broken my arm for him if I could and I would do anything in my power to have him not have to go through this. However, I see how this experience is molding his character in a way that is good and that I think will bear much fruit in the future. Seeing him go through this has made me see how my natural desire is to smooth over every bump in the road , to solve every puzzle, to ensure that they don’t have to deal with disappointments big or small, to banish mean kids and unfair coaches and rainy days from their lives. I know of course that I can’t do those things and part of me knows I shouldn’t. But oh, how I want to. I’m learning that my job as a parent isn’t so much to smooth over those bumps but to cheer them on as they navigate their way around them. In reality, the best thing for my kids isn’t always the easy road.