No Need to Call the Authorities, Everybody's Fine

There have been two recent minor, minor events in our house of late that deserve a modicum of discussion.  Okay,  not discussion.  Confession.  Bad Mommy Confession.  [Screeeeeeech!  What was that?  A bird in peril?  A car crashing?  No, no.  Only the sound of my mother's right eyebrow raising as she reads the opening paragraph of this post].

The first Bad Mommy event involved the elder of our Two, Aria Grace.  Oh, wait a minute.  Here is where you will need to consult the Thomas Family Glossary: 

Mommocacca [moe-moe-kah-kah]:  -noun, a motor vehicle similar to a bicycle but larger and heavier, chiefly for one rider but sometimes for two.  This word is often used by Thomas Family members to describe any form of noise-producing motorcycles, 4-wheel all-terrain-vehicles, or scooters.

Any reference to a mommocacca used in this text will be in reference to a 4-wheel ATV. 

In other words, Mom, you should just stop reading right now.

Here's how Bad Mommy Event Number One went down.  Aria Grace and I went out on an ATV ride.  We came back, minutes later.  Sounds innocuous, right?  Except that we were accompanied back on our return journey by Aria's newly acquired black eye, now named Shiner (shi-nah).  [Mom, I told you to stop reading!  That eyebrow sound is getting louder!]. 

Maybe I should let Aria tell the story now:

"Mommy and Ari were riding on mommocacca, going like this (insert car sounds).  Big tree lay down in the road.  Mommy and Ari tried to make mommocacca go over tree, but we went like this (insert visual of hands smacking together). We hit tree.  Ari hit mommocacca with she eye.  Mommocacca get stuck.  Mommy has to go like this (visual of Mommy lifting/pushing large item).  Then we go home and Ari have a shi-nah."

Makes perfect sense, right?

She's actually exactly right.  We hit a downed tree in the road.  I mistakenly assumed mommocacca - er, ATV - could mount said tree, but alas, I was wrong.  The ATV stopped, and Mommy and Aria kept going.  Thus, the black eye.  Before you judge, you should know three things:  1)  Yes, I feel bad;  2)   Yes, I feel awful;  and 3)  Yes, I feel terrible.  We hurried back to the house, and my nursing instinct finally kicked in.  I got her some ice to put on the eye to help with the swelling.  Of course, that part was immediately preceded by my hysterics, "Chris!  Chris!  CHRIS!  Ohmagosh, ohmagosh, ohmaGAAWWWSH!  Did you see what I did to our precious baby?  I marred her beautiful face!".  To which, Chris responded (with the calmness that only comes with having a Y chromosome), "Okay, then.  She looks fine.  Why don't you go get her some ice for her eye."  Yah.  Some nursing instinct.

Aria, as you've probably guessed, is perfectly fine.  Sure, she cried for a minute when it first happened, but after that, she seemed pretty jazzed about her shi-nah.  She ran immediately over to the neighbors to show it off, and she's been doing so ever since.  The bruise is gone and she's seems a little disappointed when she looks in the mirror now and doesn't see it. 

Bad Mommy Event Number Two was an unpredictable and unpreventable moment that, nonetheless, has given me some long moments of guilt intermingled with laughter, which then leads to more guilt.  I could tell you about it, or I could just let the video below do the talking.

Please know, however, that there is no need to call the authorities, everybody's fine!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRTUIW0BlJE