I guess we have been lucky so far. For two and a half years, there has been very little blood in our house. Georgia, up until yesterday, has avoided anything more than a scraped knee or a bit tongue. Then enter last night. Ben and I both watched it happen, and it still replays on slow-motion in my mind. Georgia was running through the house, chasing our dog Bailey, when he turned and she didn't. Bam! Right into the side of the table. Her little head bounced right off of it, and the hubby and I bounced right into action. There was no doubt that one hurt. Screams echoed through the house as our little one cried out her pain. The end result? A busted lip and something caused a circular gash between her bottom lip and her chin.
Revisiting the Bad Mother Manifesto
15 hours ago