Friday, September 5, 2008

The greatest victory of my life.

It all happened so fast. One minute I was scooping up the baby like, "Weeeee!" and flying her like a bird down the hall to Liam's room. The next minute her short life flashed before my eyes as I slammed my foot into the random step in the hallway and flew forward at high speeds, legs windmilling beneath us, her head careening dangerously close to the wall, then the door jamb, then the floor. If I had the use of my arms, they would have been flailing like mad, trying to help me gain some semblance of balance. But, alas, they were holding a terrified one year old and of no use to me at the time. I didn't think there was any way around it: we were going to crash and her sweet baby head was going to take the brunt of the fall. But then, by some miracle of physics and all that is good, we ran in to Liam's room and were vertical again. I couldn't believe it! It was the trip run-off of a lifetime. I was gasping, "We did it! Oh my gosh. Liam, we're OK!" He was looking at us like, "What in the hell was all that noise?" Sweet baby was in shock. She cried for just a moment and then seemed truly grateful for having been given a second chance. My foot and leg were throbbing and I was pretty sure I had broken my big toe or injured something of equal importance in the general vicinity but I didn't care; I had never felt more victorious in my life.

1 comment:

Katie said...

and you say that you are uncoordinated and not athletic! You just needed to find the right sport