The Longest Shortest Time

Leg Book: Part 2

Our pediatrician has a catch phrase. Or maybe it’s more of a greeting. The first thing he does when he enters the exam room is walk up to Sasha, say hello, press his finger to her nose and go, “Boop!” He does this with all of the kids, every time. It’s sort of an inside joke among those of us who take our kids to him. That the boop is Dr. Jawetz’s one and only trick to calm wary babies.

The other day Sasha was banging her cast on the floor and yelling, “Jawetz fix it! Jawetz fix it!” Something she does often.

I asked her, “How will Dr. Jawetz fix your boo-boo?”

And she turned to me me in all seriousness and said, “Boop.”

Then I remembered how just before she broke her leg she had a double ear infection, and when I took her to the doctor I told her, “We’re going to see Dr. Jawetz. You know Dr. Jawetz? Dr. Jawetz, the guy who goes boop on your nose? He’s gonna go boop. He’s gonna make you all better.”

Ah, the healing boop.

So I decided to take Alyson McCormick’s advice (see her comment at the bottom of this post) and allow Sasha to take control of the narrative in her book, even though it’s not factually correct.

1. Dr. Jawetz is not going to remove her cast; it’s a guy named Dr. Strongwater.
2. Neither of them will “boop” the cast away.

Nevertheless, as you’ll see, this is how things play out in the book. Sasha is obsessed with the Jawetz/boop page and insists that I read it to her ad nauseum and is constantly wanting to add more colors to it, so she must be getting something out of this interpretation of the story.

A few other things you should know to get the full effect of these pages.

1. Sasha and our landlord, Ruth, have a running joke. Sasha has this little red plastic teething ring that sort of looks like a bangle bracelet. Ruth likes to put it on Sasha’s wrist and say with aristocratic flare, “How fancy!” Sasha thinks this is hilarious.
2. Ever since Sasha was old enough to groove her baby body to music, I’ve been laying down this beat for her: boom chick a-boom-boom-chick. She bounces along to the beat and even requests it sometimes.
3. We’ve been talking a lot about feelings and the faces that go along with those emotions. She is fixated on the “surprised” face, I think because of the zookeeper’s wife in Good Night, Gorilla. When I asked her what she will do when her cast comes off, she said, “Surprised!” and widened her eyes and formed a tiny O with her always-wet lips.
4. When I told her she will also walk when the cast comes off, she gave me a hearty “heh.”

One more note: things have not improved on the sleep front. She has caught on to the “be right back” trick. Even having us in her room doesn’t always work. I really don’t think this has anything to do with my anxiety or guilt, as some LST readers have suggested. Honestly, I haven’t felt those things about her injury since the first few days. I just think she is intollerably uncomfortable having her leg all bound up (and it can’t help that she has ALL FOUR CANINES coming in right now either). We just have to get through this time however we can. Twelve days left, according to the calendar in her book.

Yes, let’s get to that. Here’s the rest as it is right now. (Read left right, left right; click on image to view larger).

Okay, that’s all for now. Thanks to everyone who has commented. It means so much to know that there are people out there sending us healing (and sleepy) thoughts.