She's a daredevil and it might lead to an early demise for me.
I should have figured this out when I was pregnant. I always thought I'd have to worry about her and be a little more cautious with her since she struggled so much to be born. I should have realized that was her way of letting me know she was going to take life by the horns and face the world head on. Nothing can or will stop her from doing what she wants. Her attempt at being born at 29 weeks was her way of letting me know she wanted to prove her strength to me and the world. It wasn't her way of telling me I needed to be more careful. She was trying to tell me she was ready. That she was a fighter. That I should get ready.
Never in a million years did I expect my daughter to be the one who'd get banged up all the time. I expected it to be Noah since he's the boy. Boys are supposed to be rough and tough. Girls are supposed to be dainty, right? Not in my world. My daughter is the one that you can count on to be right in the action, taking all the hits. Not that Noah isn't tough. Em's just tougher and she has the scars to prove it.
Spring Break last year she fell off our hotel bed right into the leg of the chair. She split her lip open and has a cute white scar to prove it. This all happened after she was balancing on my legs on the bed. 2 weeks ago, she was running at my parent's house while we were at the baseball game, tripped and slammed face first into the door frame. She got a nice fat lip and bruise to show for it. And last night, she nosedived into our bookcase leaving her with a black, swollen eye with a cut to match. Pretty soon people are going to start questioning what is going on in this house. I promise, it's all her. She's rough and tough with a ton of priss and sass thrown in the mix. She's definitely going to be the one who ends up with a few trips to the EC with broken bones, stitches, and who knows what else.
|At least she's cute when she's purple|