Last week, Katie got a job. She was to fill in for her friend who normally walks a dog in our neighborhood every afternoon while they were out of town. She was thrilled to have a chance to make extra money (she is saving up for a bow and arrows set...yes, she dreams of being Katniss from The Hunger Games.) and happily accepted the responsibility. The only problem was she had to cross a busy neighborhood road and, well, it made her nervous. So she offered to pay DJ part of her loot if he would accompany her. Since he has an Airsoft Gun habit to support, he agreed.
Fast forward to Wednesday. The two of the were fighting like cats and dogs. Snipping and snapping and just annoying the you-know-what out of each other. I had it "to here" and finally told them they were in boot camp.
What is boot camp, you ask?
Well, around here it means no friends until the sibling relationships are sweet again. If you can't be nice to your family, then you forfeit the social life. It works every time. Beautifully.
So they decided to go a bit early to walk the dog that afternoon, but they forgot the private school around the corner was back in session and after-school traffic surged as they rode to the house. DJ nervously watched the cars whizzing by as he determined to stay on the sidewalk and not have to ride on the road, but while watching out for cars he didn't see a cable box leaning slightly into his path and he nicked it. He fell and hit his head, but thankfully was wearing a helmet so was completely unhurt. But it scared Katie and she yelled, "Are you ok?" as she slammed her brakes.
Her bike flipped and over the handlebars she went, but her foot got caught in the pedal.
That is when DJ called me (I always have them take my cell phone, just in case.)
"Mom, Katie is hurt."
I could her her sobbing in the background.
"Where are you? "
"On Alexander. Mom, I fell and she fell and...Mom, I'm so sorry," he choked out through tears.
"Honey, it was just an accident. It's ok. I'll be right there."
So I loaded up the youngest three and we drove right over. I was fearful of what I would find, but wilted when I saw my children. He sat with her head in his lap, stroking her hair as she sobbed. I pulled over and examined her foot. It was swollen-a big goose egg on top. I silently thanked God that my husband can fix this stuff and carried her to the car. She was almost inconsolable.
"Mama, I just kept praying to Jesus that we'd be ok. It hurts so bad. I was afraid that DJ was really hurt and I just kept praying."
I called my husband and he told me to bring her to his office. Sweet DJ dutifully completed the job they had been on their way to do...walking the dog for her and then meeting us back at our house. Once he was safely home and reassured that this was not his fault and she would be OK, I took Katie to see Daddy.
X-rays commenced and a thorough exam was done. No breaks, thank goodness, but probably a crack which was causing the pain. His assistant brought out a boot and my fashionista looked at me in horror.
"Do I need to wear that?"
"It will make your foot feel better."
I chuckled because I think she was actually hoping for a cast...you know, bright purple and signed by all of her friends. But she made do...once we got home she found a gold paint pen and let the sibs sign it.
What warms my heart, though, is the effect this minor ordeal had on my oldest two. It is so easy, when you are together almost 24 hours a day, to take one another for granted. It is easy to ditch a sibling for friends when it is convenient and to pretend not to notice when their feelings are hurt. But when accidents happen, even minor ones, there is that hard reminder that you really do love each other. You really are best friends and, when it comes down to it, you really would do anything to protect one another. They have drawn closer, as they always do, and I have watched with a joyful mama-heart as they have loved each other well this week.
Not that they don't still rib and annoy the you-know-what out of each other, but it is more good-natured. And their renewed sweetness trickles down to the others.
I am so grateful that they have always been the best of friends, and I pray they always will be.
Fast forward to Wednesday. The two of the were fighting like cats and dogs. Snipping and snapping and just annoying the you-know-what out of each other. I had it "to here" and finally told them they were in boot camp.
What is boot camp, you ask?
Well, around here it means no friends until the sibling relationships are sweet again. If you can't be nice to your family, then you forfeit the social life. It works every time. Beautifully.
So they decided to go a bit early to walk the dog that afternoon, but they forgot the private school around the corner was back in session and after-school traffic surged as they rode to the house. DJ nervously watched the cars whizzing by as he determined to stay on the sidewalk and not have to ride on the road, but while watching out for cars he didn't see a cable box leaning slightly into his path and he nicked it. He fell and hit his head, but thankfully was wearing a helmet so was completely unhurt. But it scared Katie and she yelled, "Are you ok?" as she slammed her brakes.
Her bike flipped and over the handlebars she went, but her foot got caught in the pedal.
That is when DJ called me (I always have them take my cell phone, just in case.)
"Mom, Katie is hurt."
I could her her sobbing in the background.
"Where are you? "
"On Alexander. Mom, I fell and she fell and...Mom, I'm so sorry," he choked out through tears.
"Honey, it was just an accident. It's ok. I'll be right there."
So I loaded up the youngest three and we drove right over. I was fearful of what I would find, but wilted when I saw my children. He sat with her head in his lap, stroking her hair as she sobbed. I pulled over and examined her foot. It was swollen-a big goose egg on top. I silently thanked God that my husband can fix this stuff and carried her to the car. She was almost inconsolable.
"Mama, I just kept praying to Jesus that we'd be ok. It hurts so bad. I was afraid that DJ was really hurt and I just kept praying."
I called my husband and he told me to bring her to his office. Sweet DJ dutifully completed the job they had been on their way to do...walking the dog for her and then meeting us back at our house. Once he was safely home and reassured that this was not his fault and she would be OK, I took Katie to see Daddy.
X-rays commenced and a thorough exam was done. No breaks, thank goodness, but probably a crack which was causing the pain. His assistant brought out a boot and my fashionista looked at me in horror.
"Do I need to wear that?"
"It will make your foot feel better."
I chuckled because I think she was actually hoping for a cast...you know, bright purple and signed by all of her friends. But she made do...once we got home she found a gold paint pen and let the sibs sign it.
What warms my heart, though, is the effect this minor ordeal had on my oldest two. It is so easy, when you are together almost 24 hours a day, to take one another for granted. It is easy to ditch a sibling for friends when it is convenient and to pretend not to notice when their feelings are hurt. But when accidents happen, even minor ones, there is that hard reminder that you really do love each other. You really are best friends and, when it comes down to it, you really would do anything to protect one another. They have drawn closer, as they always do, and I have watched with a joyful mama-heart as they have loved each other well this week.
Not that they don't still rib and annoy the you-know-what out of each other, but it is more good-natured. And their renewed sweetness trickles down to the others.
I am so grateful that they have always been the best of friends, and I pray they always will be.
That bootcamp thing sounds like a great idea! My oldest two spend a lot of time together and sometimes they forget how important they are to each other!
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