"If you want to make God
  laugh, tell him about your
  plans." Woody Allen

  I was so very proud of
  myself. I had solved the
  summer puzzle of camps,
  multiple sitters, my work
  schedule, details for a family
  reunion with my parents and five brothers and sisters and their families, a camping trip, my husband's availability for drop off and pick up when the boys were at two different camps (skateboarding and fencing) in two different cities at the same time. It was a well thought out, carefully crafted, and detailed plan.

And then, three days before the last day of school, my younger son broke both bones in his lower leg at a trampoline party place. We were lucky. It wasn't his neck, head or spine. An off-duty Foster City firefighter/angel held my son's leg in traction and kept him calm until the paramedics arrived.  IV morphine is a miracle. We had an incredible nurse in the emergency room and the emergency department was remarkably quiet that day while we waited for surgery.  The broken bones are above my son's growth plate. The orthopedic surgeon who reset my son's bones said that this kind of break in an adult would require plates, pins, and physical therapy.  But in kids, bones heal especially fast. In this case, the prognosis was six or so weeks in a full leg cast.  

Our summer is a fast five weeks with the boys' year round school schedule.

Summer had changed. I had no control, no plan, no idea how the next month was going to look and I desperately wanted to be okay with that.  I'm a planner. I am a really good planner. I make lists. I keep track of details. I like knowing what to expect with my schedule - or at least having a general idea. And when things change - which invariably they do, especially with kids - I must admit that I have to sweet talk myself into going with the flow.
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