the bumps and scrapes of life

We started off this morning making automotive history, at least for the Sublett family.  Kim took the kids to school, like usual.  Since the windshield had a light coat of melting frost on it, she turned the wipers on to clear the water.  The only difference today was that the wipers decided to work overtime. Yep, they wouldn’t stop wiping.  I’m all in favor of going beyond the call of duty, giving 110%, and the ethic of hard work, but these things took a mind of their own.  They kept going, even after Kim pulled into the driveway, turned off the van, and pulled the keys.  A couple of hours later, they were still wiping.  I had to pull the fuse to get them to stop.

side note:  I had no inkling to pull the fuse.  I posted our dilemma on facebook and twitter, and a 21 year old college girl shot back an immediate and correct reply!  Sarah Hedrick is one savvy lady!  If her major doesn’t pan out, she might have a future in the auto mechanic field!

Annabelle took a major step in toughening up today.  She came to us with an apparently low tolerance for pain.  We’ve noticed that she would say “Ow” at the slightest of bumps, and she cried at some things that seemed pretty insignificant–little pinches, bumping her foot on the table leg, an all-but-invisible splinter, etc.  I’ve been responding to her “ow” with a smile and a  “What?  No Ow!  You’re not hurt” kind of thing, and it’s been working.  I’m hearing a lot less “ows” than before, and she runs through the mantra “Ow…no ow.  I know…” on her own.

But today she and Sadie decided to join me on my run.  It was too nice a day to stay inside, so Sadie jumped on her bike and Annabelle thought she’d ride her scooter.  On our way down the hill, Annabelle hit a patch of gravel, lost her balance, and did the duff right in the middle of the street.  If you’ve ever bit it on asphalt and gravel, you know what she was feeling.  I ran to her side, checked for blood, and caught her right as she was beginning to tear up.  I brushed off the little bits of stone that were on her hands, asked if she was hurt, and she looked me in the eye.

I’m ok.

We pantomimed the wreck, and I faked crying–loud and long.  She started laughing.

And then we went for a little run together.

I know that there will be days when she’s really hurting, either physically or emotionally.  I don’t ever want to be insensitive to that.  But I am glad that she’s learning to toughen up against the little bumps and scrapes of everyday life.

She’s a trooper!