Last night you were sitting between your big sister and I. We were playing with your baby toys and making them squeak for you. When one of your toys fell off the couch you dove after it. Tumbled onto your back and fell pretty hard. Hard enough to bounce up again. You cried for a very long time. And I sat there holding you in tears as well thinking what could I have done differently. How can I protect you from simple every day things. You were in my grasp and acted to fast for me or your sister to even catch you. I'm afraid that there will be more instances like this. But lets pray and hope that you don't become a daredevil like your mother. I have too many scars to count from my Evil Knieval days. Three scars on my chin, two on my for head, and a dozen to count on the back of my head. I could only imagine the terror my mother went through when I would split my head open from jumping on the bed. Or when I would try and chart the distances from the couch to the glass coffee table which is the equivalent of many many stitches. I am hoping that you are scared of heights like your father and are not a thrill seeker like your mother. Solin be courageous but not to brave. Little one please be safe.