We're Calling Social Services

Kids have their clumsy moments, right?

Our poor little Ashie has really had her share of clumsy lately.

First incident: During a high speed chase, you know the kind - "You better run, I'm gonna get you" - kind of chase - Ashie ran right square into the corner of a wooden headboard.

Brutal.

Luckily, I wasn't there. I just don't do well under pressure - the kind with blood and screaming kids, that is. Grandpa was there and he fixed her all up. We didn't know if to take her to the doctor for a stitch or not. In the end, we just doctored her up with a butterfly bandaid - which didn't stay for very long - and she was just fine.

These were taken the morning after the accident.
(It has seriously healed very quickly and we are now religiously applying

Mederma - the anti-scar cream -

to make sure she won't scar to badly.)

Second incident: Not sure what happened.

Screaming occurred. There were no witnesses. Just this as evidence.

More than one person threatened to call Social Services at church on Sunday.

I feel as though I must claim that my children are not abused. They are loved more than I ever thought I could humanly love someone.

(Isn't it crazy the amount of love we have for our children? Are you with me on this?)

I may have my moments -

but those moments consist of mindlessly eating

high doses of calories while hiding in the closet

or trying to block out the noise of four hands pounding on the door while I'm desperately trying to find a

"moment of quiet"

as I hide in the bathroom.

So, yes, Ashland has had both of her eyes blackened in the past two weeks.

But no, a phone call to Social Services will not be necessary.