So on Sunday, the oldest decided he wanted to try his hand at being SpiderMan or something. He thought he could take a couch, in one leap, and bound from the floor at a side angle, over the arm of a couch and make it in front of the couch easy peasy lemon squeezy. Uh uh. Not gonna happen. He and his Daddy were playing catch with a rather tiny football while I was at the mall with the littlest. While I was gone.
As he tried this rather impossible jump, he impaled (too dramatic but perfect word to describe it) his right inner ankle on a wrought iron leaf that edged the table next to the couch. Yep. That's gotta hurt.
I get home and I'm met in the driveway with news that there had been a little 'mishap' while I was away (I literally was only gone for 1.25 hours). Well, ahem, let me just skip ahead and tell you he got four stitches as a result of his little Peter Parker stunt. Heart attacks? Yes. I am the mom of BOYS. I'm afraid there's much more to come. I am preparing to brace myself as I type. Buckling in and all that. As my friend Tammy said, "It's all boobahs now, no more normal boy shows" No more Power Rangers. No more Spider Man. None of that stuff. I know I know. I'm a stick in the mud. And of course I'm just kidding. But man, their killin me. I must grow a thicker skin. Anybody got any ideas how?
---J
You cook, you clean, you go to work, you nourish, you love, you scold, you are professional and yet you hang your hat on every dust particle in your home. You are a woman. Some women are Moms and some are not. You are still a woman. We are all made similarly. We are strong.
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