confessions of a (normal?) mom

Sometimes I wonder if life around my house is more dramatic than others. Either that, or people just aren't talking (cue comments, perhaps?)

I mean, take a couple weeks ago for example. When Jonah locked himself in the guest room, and after a significant amount of time of no response from him, knowing he was really into wrapping the shade cords around his neck (??), I became convinced he had strangled himself and kicked the door in (impressed?). I promise...damage was minimal. And I'd do it again if I was in the same situation...I mean, it does make for a good story (weeks later, when I'm over the trama). And my husband does still, on occasion, affectionately refer to me as churck norris (isn't that sweet).

Or try today. Ben's day off--leisurely breakfast at Panera and a stroll through World Market. Turned dramatic when the little adventurer--whose hand I was holding--tried to make a break for it but I held on. As we left with him crying/whining, and not willing to move his arm, I had a flashback. Circa 1994? As a doctor's kid, you become privy to information/diagnosis such as nursemaids elbow. And I remember vividly my dad putting a neighbor kids' elbow back in place. So, a little phone call to Iowa, a quick step by step tutorial from Dr. Grandpa, Ben playing orthopedist, and voila! We saved ourselves an expensive trip to the ER (thanks, Dad!).

And now we sit. With a couple of our loves: veggie tales and apples (don't we sound healthy? maybe...except we really LOVE doughnuts, too.)