I’m officially waving the white flag. I’m spent. I’m done. I give up. The twins are going to drive me to drink, or an early grave. Maybe both.
After a relatively quiet morning and a late lunch, I put the girls down for a nap. I puttered around on the computer while Drew played on the floor with some flash cards. Over the monitor I heard Annie’s voice and it was just a tad bit too close to the monitor in the girls’ bedroom. Upon review, I found Annie walking around the room instead of in her crib. She has stealth, that’s for certain. I put her back, told them to take a nap, and came back downstairs. Shortly afterward I heard a horrible CLUNK and screams from Izzie. I found both girls out of their cribs, but Izzie was a crumpled heap on the floor and Annie was all innocently looking at me like “what? I do this all the time.”
Long story short, after a 2 1/2 hour trip to the urgent care center at our local hospital, Izzie has a fractured collarbone. Do you know what can be done for a fractured collarbone? NOTHING. I can put her little arm in a sling, but she’s a 2 year old. She isn’t going to keep her arm in a sling, no matter how cute it is. The paperwork says collarbone fractures take up to 6 weeks to heal. I bought a LARGE bottle of baby ibuprofen and will be calling our doctor for yet another referral to the orthopedist. Thank god for insurance, because Annie’s trip to the urgent care center was $500. We have to pay $50.
Let’s review~last month Annie got tackled by Drew and broke her arm. Her cast came off yesterday. YESTERDAY! Four days into December and Izzie decided she wanted to be part of the crowd and followed Annie out of the crib. Bubble wrap, duct tape and/or cookies and alcohol are on the agenda (cookies and alcohol for me not them of course) for the next few days.
I’m going to find my jammies and a blanket. I’m beat.