The stool of doom.

Ok, what is with Becca and head injuries? 

I’ve lost count of the times she has conked her melon in the last 2 years.   These falls will be the death of me (or her maybe).   I’m guessing she’s knocked 20 points off her IQ so far.  

The other night was particularly bad.  Becca was up on her stool at the island eating a bedtime snack of ice-cream (yes I know, bad mama).   It’s a high stool, but she’s been using it for a year now with no mishaps. She somehow knocked her bowl off the counter and tried to catch it sending her headfirst towards the lino.  Her forehead hit the floor first and her body kept going over until she was on her back (you can imagine the angle her neck was at).  It felt like a knife went through my chest.  For a horrible 10 seconds she didn’t move, her eyes were rolled sideways and she was shaking.  Thankfully then her face screwed up and she started to cry.  She rolled over and stood up.  She was ok....this time.

I’ve had more than my fair share of practice at assessing head injuries.  After checking B over, I decided that a hospital visit wasn’t necessary.  I would just wake her every hour or so and check her again.   So I sat up on the couch with B sleeping in my arms until 2am when I was finally reassured enough to go to sleep myself.

Other parents, seeing the twins climbing at the playground or jumping off some ridiculous height, often say “I can’t believe you let your kids DO that.”   But try and stop them!  Of course I don't like seeing them take risks.  It scares the crap out of me.   But I don’t want to keep them in bubble wrap either.  It's hard to find the balance between keeping them safe but also giving them room to grow and develop.    

Does it get any easier?  It’s that old saying about how being parent is like having your heart walking around outside your body.  And this is only the beginning.  They’re going to ride bikes, go skiing, drive cars, attend frat parties and all manner of other dangerous things.   How am I going to cope?   

Maybe we should have just gotten cats instead.   

Back on the "stool of doom" the next day getting herself a drink of water.

A typical terrifying playground activity.

Quote of the day:

Becca wakes up bright and chipper the next morning  “Do you remember that I dropped my ice-cream and fell off my chair and bonked my head.  That was soooo funny!!!!  I laughed and laughed. ”

Maybe it’s more like 25 IQ points.