This series is not about my son who broke both bones in his ankle in a gnarly way. It’s about me, his mom, and me … an entrepreneur whose business is growing and the struggle between these two identities.

You may or may not relate, but I invite you to come with me in this journey which is happening in quasi real time.

How it happened.

I wanted to give you a sense of who I am and how this happened. With enough detail to give you an accurate feel of the shituation (intentionally misspelled) but hopefully not bore you.

We are a camping family, and we go away almost every weekend. Camping was my way of feeling like I could be an entrepreneur and a mom. I love being in nature and camping provides us the family time we often miss during the week. My boys are teenagers, soon they will be gone. But when we camp we sleep in close quarters, we cook and eat together, we go on hikes or swims, we pass time together. THAT, is what camping provides me.

During the week, I give myself permission to focus on my business and my clients even though my boys are home (I am writing this in pandemic times when schools are online or cancelled). This is how I explain it to myself …. 

During the week we are together but not together. Under the same roof but not spending quality time together. But during the weekends, I am theirs. And I intentionally say “yes” as often as I can.

“Mami, do you want to play a card game?”

“Yes.”

“Mami, can you make me a sandwich?”

“Poof … you are a sandwich” followed by “Yes.”

You get the picture.

That is what camping has come to mean to me. It’s where I front-load all the attention I give my kids so that during the week I don’t feel what many of us moms feel … guilt … as we pursue our dreams.

This particular weekend, we were going to explore a new place about 80 miles or so from our home. It was idyllic. I mean, drop dead gorgeous and we set camp in a green field next to a stream. The next couple of days were to be filled with hiking, biking, fishing, and hanging out with another family who joined us for the weekend. And best of all? No cell phone reception. I love camping where there is no signal because it really does give you a chance to disconnect and be in the moment. 

I was so happy.

As I was unpacking and getting our site set up for dinner I hear my youngest son run in and say “D is hurt, you’ve got to come.”

“Yeah, yeah … I’m coming” I replied slowly. D has a tendency to exaggerate pain so I wasn’t too concerned. Until the other kids also came and said “no really, he broke his foot” which is when I hear a scream I haven’t heard before.

I hobble (because I have an injured hip) to my son who is on the ground in a ditch, turn on the flashlight and see his foot with a bone sneaking out while his foot hangs loose.

Holy shit. This is real.

If you are grossed out by pictures, I’m going to warn you that at the bottom of this post is an image of his broken ankle. No blood, but you are warned.

Fortunately, our camping friends included several nurses so they bandaged him up and put him in my car and I began to drive. My husband came with me in a separate car as we left behind two dogs, a child, and all our camping stuff so he was going to have to go back.

Remember … no cell phone zone. No way to call an ambulance and calling one would just delay him getting to the hospital by about two hours which is how long it would take us to drive there.

The drive starts with 14 miles of dirt road. And not just that, but the road has been often used so it is covered in ruts. Every time I hit a bump was followed by a scream from the back seat. 

And it was two hours of this. In the pitch dark.  

From the back seat, D sounded drunk. He actually sounded like kids in those videos after they get their wisdom teeth out and begin saying jibberish as the anesthesia wears off. He would ask for a song, then to play it out louder, then he would belt it out at the top of his lungs. That was how he would self soothe.

In between signing, he would yell out the following in no particular order:

“I am in so much pain”

“I need help”

“Where is the hospital”

“Can’t I just get in an ambulance”

“Why? Why? Why? Why me?”

“Noooooo. Not this song”

“Can you go faster?”

“Thank you Mami.”

“I’m sorry Mami”

Over. And over. And over. Again.

Two hours later we arrived at the hospital and five hours after that we were home. With the diagnosis of two broken ankle bones, growth plate broken, possible surgery, and a prescription for Percoset.

Now, it’s at this point when the story begins.

Because now I have a child who needs me for everything and for whom I want to be there for. And a business I am passionate about that also needs me as it is growing by leaps and bounds. 

What gives?