My broken blue eyed baby's cast came off today. Hoo-ray. It has been a long 3 weeks where he learned that he could lay down on the tile in the entry way and BANG! and BANG! and BANG! his cast on the floor and mom would come running to see who fell this time. Or that he could lay in his crib and drag his cast along the bars of his bed like a prisoner with an old tin cup along the bars of his cell, and mom would come running to stop the racket. I've done a lot of running in these past 3 weeks, I tell you what.
Oh, he adapted well, my casted kid. He could stand on his perma-bent leg in a little baby squat and get to wherever he wanted while crawling and swinging his peg leg to the side. But after 3 weeks of gimping, it was definitely time for it to come off.
He had no cares in the world at the doctor's office. Hudson covered his ears when the doctor pulled out the saw, but Holden just sat on my lap, eating his apples as if this happened every day (heaven forbid). The doc sawed and then pulled the cast off, and I was surprised to see only 1 cheerio but not surprised to see just bits of an orange and red fruit loop (since those are the best loops of the looped fruit variety, you know). The doctor said that it might take 6 months for him to recover fully, but before we could even leave the office that boy had his leg streeeettttccched aaallll the way out like he hadn't felt anything that good since the day I let him smear a custard filled donut in his hair. He was right back to normal, including his weird toe that has been crooked since he was born. Hoor-ray indeed.
The crooked toe at birth,
the crooked toe post cast.
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