Last night Natalie and I were playing a game called "Chase you" that she begs for us to play every night. Liam and I were chasing her through the kitchen, into the living room, through the dining room and then into the kitchen again. We all were jogging pretty slow and she would stop and giggle when Liam and I caught up to her and then she'd get tickled. Then (out of nowhere) she tripped and did a head dive into the corner of the wall in the kitchen right on her forehead.
Completely bust it open.
I about DIED.
My neighbor (a doctor) looked at it (the second injury she's been called for this week) and said we didn't need stitches. And, although she said I didnt need to, I got up several times last night to just check on Natalie and make sure she was still breathing. Thankfully, she's fine.
Arghh!! I'm feeling quite the range of emotions right now:
- Terrible (as a mom). I burst into tears myself last night. Seeing her banged up breaks my heart.
- Hopeful (that the clumsy stage is merely a stage and ALMOST over). I'm rethinking signing her up for rec center ballet next year.
- Leery (of letting her do anything where a helmet/kneepads/etc aren't involved).
- Frustrated (three times in one week? what must the neighbors think???)
They need some sort of air-bag clothing for toddlers that inflates upon impact to protect them. Hmm... maybe I'll invent that. I'd like to think she's learning to be more careful after all the tumbles, but the fact that she asked for the "chase you" game not quite 15 minutes after the head dive last night has me thinking she doesn't quite get it. OR that I'm going to be on a first name basis with the ER nurses.
And here I thought that I'd be spending most of my visits to the E.R. with Liam. After all, isn't it boys that are supposed to be the reckless ones?