Today my daughter had her seventh birthday party. It was at a trampoline place with some of her closest friends. Two of them, Rayan and Keira, came over beforehand to help put the treat bags together. As they were leaving, just before we were about to head out for the party I got a message from their mother.
She told me they wouldn’t be coming to the party. There were some poor choices the children had made as well as some entitlement issues and they had lost the privilege of coming to the birthday party. I told her we understood completely and sometimes those kinds of lessons were the best, albeit most unhappy, ones.
Her children had known they wouldn’t be going, but wanted to come over and help with the bags because they had promised to the day before. They were embarrassed and upset about it, but they didn’t let on.
As we were getting ready to go to the car I told the children about their friends not being able to come. My daughter cried. My son said we had to cancel the party if his best friend Rayan couldn’t come. I understood how they were sad too. They wanted to know what had happened and I explained we didn’t need to know and I gave examples of why they might not want a reason given if they had done something and lost the privilege of going to a party.
I also explained that we didn’t need to tell friends at the party that they weren’t allowed to come. That if anyone asked, we could just say they couldn’t make it. I also told the children that after the party Rayan and Keira had a present for my daughter and could come back over and play.
And everything went well after that. The party was fun, the trampolines were bouncy and the cupcakes my husband made were chocolaty. On the way home I messaged Rayan and Keira’s mother asking if our children could come over for a bit because I was taking the dog to the vet. She still wasn’t putting down the paw, and while we didn’t think it was broken, she was clearly in discomfort and not her usual self.
Lisa said to send the children over (who went with balloons and cupcakes to share) and I headed to the vet. X-rays confirmed nothing was broken and she also said she didn’t feel any laxity in the movement of the leg, which means no ligaments are torn. But she’s still sore, and only putting the leg down a tiny bit.
They gave her some pain medication, which interestingly enough isn’t a pain medication in humans, it’s a nerve medication: gabapentin. I’ve taken gabapentin for nerve pain before I started taking lyrica. She said it works well in dogs. She didn’t want to prescribe an NSAID for her given her young age.
Hopefully she’s bruised and sore and she’ll heal quickly—which is apparently what puppies do. My daughter is much calmer today and (I think) understands that accidents happen and it’s okay and not to blame herself. She and Matisse are back to being great friends again. The dog is low energy and slow moving with the injury though. I’m looking forward to having her back to her old self.
The Big Boy Update: My son came home on Friday and said, “mom, say the ‘F’ word.” I played dumb and said, “Ferdinand?” He said, “no, I mean F U C K.” I said, “oh, that word. That’s an adult word, which you know, and when you’re an adult you can say it. I’m glad to know you know how it’s spelled.” I thought we’d heard the end of it until today at my daughter’s birthday party when he mentioned it again. He protested he didn’t “say” the word. He has been advised on the use of the word either in spoken or spelled form.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter had a good time at her birthday party today. We always say no presents, but some friends like to get things even so. She got an envelope with seven dollars, one for each year she was old and another card came with a bag of Reeses Mini Cups—which she loves. Her favorite card was from her classmate who is also visually impaired. It’s a singing card with a dog that spins on the page when you open it up. Aditi wanted to open it with her so they could dance to the music together.
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