I don’t have three arms…

…Or three sets of eyes.  I really wish that I did, for occasions like a visit to the local park.  It is actually two parks in one, spread across a football field, with a preschooler-sized park at one end and a big-kid-sized park at the other.  I take my daughters in hopes of getting them all worn out (read: early bedtime) and yet somehow I am the one who’s exhausted after running from one park to the other…

A visit to the park begins innocently enough: we drive by daily on our way to and from school.  On a rare occasion, the stars align, and I have forgotten the LAST episode at the park that ended with at least two children in tears and at least one of the crying girls oozing blood.  Yesterday was that rare (forgetful) occasion.

As I was putting the car into Park, the girls were already scrambling out of the SUV and running towards the playgrounds.  Before I could get myself out of the car, the girls had scattered like roaches to the far reaches of the grounds.  I stood in a spot mid-way between the two playgrounds, scanning the park for my daughters smiling faces.  I saw Halie happily making her way across the monkey bars at the big-kid playground.  As I cheered Halie on, I heard Catie shout: “MOMMA!”  As I turned, I could see Catie standing at the top of the jungle-gym, eyes wide in panic.  What struck fear in my heart was the other part of that picture: Rosie was quickly scaling the structure as well.  Before I could get to Rosie, misstepped and dropped the six feet to the ground.  She landed on her face.

Having destroyed a few ceramic-faced dolls in my youth,  I expected to find a smashed-in face on my little miracle baby.  What I found was a toddler who had the wind knocked out of her.  There was a tense moment when she made absolutely NO sound, followed by an extended wail.  As I picked her up and turned her over to assess the damage, this is the face I saw:

 web-rosie.jpg What you may not see are the two distinct marks under her bottom lip where her teeth tore through the flesh, and the split chin on the underside.  I guess I had forgotten how much an injury to a small child’s head or face can bleed! 

The good news is that Rosie is her usual happy self and required no stitches to repair her injuries. 

The bad news is that I give it a week before I develop ‘public park amnesia’ and go back for another visit.



  1. Diana said,

    October 30, 2006 at 9:46 am


  2. Karen said,

    October 30, 2006 at 9:18 pm

    I’m so glad it was as little damage as it was. How terribly frightening.

  3. jerseytjej said,

    November 2, 2006 at 12:31 am

    After my initial “awwwh”, I believe you when you say you’ll get right back on the horse ( or park). Super cute photo,E… now if I could only lure you to the dark side and scrapbook the damn thing!!!;-)

  4. Jenn M. said,

    November 2, 2006 at 8:54 am

    Poor kiddo! Why do they make playground equipment so darn high? How have you been feeling these days?

  5. Latte Man said,

    November 3, 2006 at 2:23 pm

    Some day in the future, that Rosie is gonna be a real handful for some lucky guy.

  6. Beth said,

    November 5, 2006 at 9:05 am

    Poor baby! Ouch, ouch, ouch!

  7. November 15, 2006 at 8:15 pm

    […] It struck yet again.  Yesterday.  I told you that I’d forget all the blood and tears and maternal terror that happened the last time I took the girls to the local park.  Three weeks to the day.   I previously predicted that only a week would pass before I suffered Playground Amnesia.  I am proud of myself (and my daughters) for surviving for such a long stretch without visiting the park. […]

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