When I was a kid, I was the biggest Tom Boy ever..... I could do anything that any boy could do, and I could do it better. I could run faster and climb higher, I rode horses (bare back), I got sooooo dirty my mom had to throw some of my clothes away because she couldn't get them clean. If I got hurt, I tried everything possible not to show it. I got back up and dusted myself off and acted like it didn't happen. It made me sooooo mad when I hurt myself bad enough to warrant telling someone. I've broken bones, knocked out 4 front teeth (at the same time), got a piece of tree bark stuck in my leg and, after 2 days of hiding it, I got blood poisoning ended up in the E.R. with my dad so they could get the bark out of my leg. I've been kicked in the back by a horse, wrecked my bike and scraped one whole side of my face and much, much, more. I survived, and I have really fond memories of it all....
Don't get me wrong, I'm no sadist. I have bad memories of the events too, but I had a childhood that was full of adventure....
So why is it that when my kids go out to play, all I can do is worry.... I worry they will get hurt, I worry they will get dirty. I worry they will break something. I WORRY!!! I keep a short leash on them and hover, yet they still manage to get hurt. Always, the minute I turn my back... they get hurt.
This has been a rough week, full of injuries. Molly was riding her 4-wheeler last weekend and wrecked into the wire fencing that surrounds the property. Clotheslined herself and ended up with a red scratch that went across her throat (looked like she tried to cut her head off), then yesterday I left to go to the grocery store and Harley was practicing her batting (softball). As she went to swing at the ball Molly walked up behind her. The bat didn't make it to the ball. It was stopped by Molly's face. When I got home and saw it, all I wanted to do was cry.... she was doing enough of that for all of us.....
She's ok. Or atleast as "OK" as she can be. But I ask this, when does it get easier? When do I loosen the reigns and just face the fact that kids will be kids, they get hurt. I know it's true but it's sooooo hard to see them hurt.
9/28/2012
There are so many milestones that you celebrate in life. First steps, first words, first tooth, first tooth you lose, driving, drinking, college, marriage, the list goes on and on.... but the one milestone that undeniably "CHANGES YOUR WHOLE LIFE" is the birth of your first child. When this happens, you lose your sleep, your quiet time, your clean house, your mind, and even your privacy in the bathroom. My mother once told me "One day you will become a mom and you'll understand why I miss my privacy in the bathroom." My sister and I both used to sit outside the bathroom door so we could talk to her. We didn't think about the fact that it could've waited 5 minutes. Now I just wish I could have 5 minutes. 
When I was a kid, I was the biggest Tom Boy ever..... I could do anything that any boy could do, and I could do it better. I could run faster and climb higher, I rode horses (bare back), I got sooooo dirty my mom had to throw some of my clothes away because she couldn't get them clean. If I got hurt, I tried everything possible not to show it. I got back up and dusted myself off and acted like it didn't happen. It made me sooooo mad when I hurt myself bad enough to warrant telling someone. I've broken bones, knocked out 4 front teeth (at the same time), got a piece of tree bark stuck in my leg and, after 2 days of hiding it, I got blood poisoning ended up in the E.R. with my dad so they could get the bark out of my leg. I've been kicked in the back by a horse, wrecked my bike and scraped one whole side of my face and much, much, more. I survived, and I have really fond memories of it all....
This has been a rough week, full of injuries. Molly was riding her 4-wheeler last weekend and wrecked into the wire fencing that surrounds the property. Clotheslined herself and ended up with a red scratch that went across her throat (looked like she tried to cut her head off), then yesterday I left to go to the grocery store and Harley was practicing her batting (softball). As she went to swing at the ball Molly walked up behind her. The bat didn't make it to the ball. It was stopped by Molly's face. When I got home and saw it, all I wanted to do was cry.... she was doing enough of that for all of us.....
