If You Could Tell Me

Let me tell you a little bit about my day. 

I woke Rory up this morning and, like he does about 3 times a week, he wouldn’t get out of bed. I checked on him several times while I got myself and Penny ready and nothing. He refused. Screamed at me every time I spoke to him. I finally gave up so I could have Penny ready for the bus on time, but I went to his room once she left. I tried to flip him onto his back (he fought me), I changed his diaper (he fought me), I got him dressed in his bed (he fought me), I tried to get him to stand up and go downstairs and he fought me yet again.

I carried him, very frustrated at this point, down the stairs and forced him to stand up in the porch. I turned around to call my work and tell them I would be a bit late coming in because I was fighting with him (sadly not a terribly uncommon phone call for me to make). It was only when I turned around again that I realized he had himself propped up on the wall, not putting his right foot on the ground. 

I tried to get him to walk towards me and he fell down into me. I tried to stand him up again and he wouldn’t. So, at that point I called my sister and my mom to try and figure out what to do. When my sister called me back I told her I needed her to come by and give me a second opinion because I was torn on whether or not his foot was asleep, he was hurt, or if he was just being an a-hole.

Turns out, it was the second. Rory literally couldn’t stand up. He still can’t. My sister and I moved his legs around a bit and finally deduced that his right hip hurts. We called the health line and they suggested going to the Janeway. I called his daycare to make sure nothing happened yesterday that could explain it (nothing did). We got X-rays at the Janeway and they figure he just must have just sprained his hip/leg/joint at some point.

How? When? We have no idea. We figure it was some time while he was sleeping last night. It’s the only time no one was with him.

You know how most of this could be avoided? If he could frigging tell us what happened and what hurts.

It was a bit later in the day when I got a call from Penny’s school to let me know that she has a large scratch on her face and no one knows how it got there. They tried to ask Penny, they asked the teachers, and even the other students. No one could tell them what happened. I’m not upset over it, she’s not upset over it, but the question of how she did it still remains unanswered.

You know when you have a newborn and you’re like, “I wish you could tell me why you’re crying. Is it gas? Are you hungry? Does your belly hurt?” It feels sometimes like we’ve never gotten past that stage.

We’re better at guessing now, but most times I have no fucking idea what’s happening with them. Seriously.

For example, a few weeks ago Rory was plugging his ears and screaming every time we left the car. My mind immediately went to ear infection or hearing sensitivities. I packed his earphones daily (even though he hates wearing them). I had plans to call the doctor if that didn’t work. It was only a few days later that I realized the solution: Hat. His ears were cold.

Things I’m still trying to figure out: Why Rory chews on metal all of the time and also why we’re not allowed to check the mail while Penny is in the car (her rule).

It feels like we have to be detectives all of the time. It’s not a bad thing, really, I do it naturally now. I feel like looking for the “why” in everything they do helps me understand them a bit better. But it can be so, so exhausting. And when I don’t catch something I feel like I should have (like Rory’s leg injury) my mom guilt goes into overdrive.

So, even though I don’t make it a habit to make concrete “hopes” for the future – on days like today, all I want is for them to do is just tell. me. something.