8:31 AM

As I sat down in the kitchen a bling of light shining off something very small caught my attention. I heaved a sigh, knowing full well what it was: a shard of glass. In the last few days I have managed to break two glasses. I am not really sure how they broke, only that had the incidents been videoed I would be the laughing stock of youtube right now because incident was that Charlie Chaplin type of incident. All I can say is at least I didn't drop the glass bottle of water or break the oil carafe.....
But as I sigh deeply at my clumsiness or laugh (depending on how much sleep I have had) I cluch my side in pain. Oh, yes, last night the door handle ran into my ribs not once but twice, the second time was quite delibraete on his part I am sure as it was much more painful. This is what happens when one year old start dreaming that other kids on the playground are trying to get on HER slide!
Unfortunately the bruise on my ribs is not the only one hurting me. My knee is entire purple right now due to my personal question of whether or not my true mama instict to save my child before myself is intact was answered. (As I go up and down marble steps with a one year in old on my hip, a three year old's hand in mine and usually some other type of grocery bag, dry cleaning bag, etc hanging from some other limb, I often wonder if I have the instinct to throw the grocery bag down and save my child if I ever find myself falling. The things we think of during the day as mothers.....) As my shoe got caught on the CEMEMT stair within a split second the bouquet of flowers on the ground, both my arms were wrapped around Little N and my body instantly went into a curved position around her. But something had to really break the fall. That is where my knee came into play.
Ow. Sorry, I typed wrong with my pinky finger, which is healing from having a broken glass jar fall on it and slice it almost in two. I am so not exaggerating....!
After telling my tale to my friend she asked if I were pregnant. Ha! No. I am ashamed to say that there is no reason for my clumsy racha (period of time). It's just me.

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