The odds are against us. I’m noticing that the more hours the boys spend together the threat of injury increases exponentially. Whether it means a popped lense from a glasses frame (two this week and counting) to an unfortunate biting incident with intensified retaliatation, I’m starting to become concerned. Every yelp, scrape or karate chop is beginning to illicit real fear in the depth of my soul. I am pacing around like a crazy woman in mad, little circles with my ears trained for any sign of calamity. Yesterday, I used almost an entire box of band-aids and that was only for one kid. I used half a box on the other. If only they made band-aids that could suture together the frayed remnants of my fragile state of mind.
Keep us in your thoughts and wish us the best. Or better yet, send us some band-aids.