Day 186.

Noah fell head/face first onto the cement off of a water feature this afternoon. It wasn't pretty, and Jason and I sat 2 feet from him watching the whole thing. You know that moment as a parent when you witness your child do something dangerous and everything seems to go in slow motion? Then, you later replay the event in your head a thousand times and wish you could push pause right before they get hurt.

But then there are the short moments after the fall (or however they got hurt) where you fear the worst and hope for the best. In my "worst-case-scenario world," I always assume it will be bad, then I'm pleasantly surprised when it's not. I grit my teeth and hug my boy, thinking I'll surely find a huge lump on his head that is gushing blood.

I am grateful for finding the best.

Just a bruise and a scrape this time. Lots of tears, but not much harm done. Deep breaths for both parents. Whenever I feel like my kids narrowly escape severe harm, I marvel at their luck and good karma, and thank their guardian angels. Kids' bodies are resilient and so are my emotions, as I watch them escape injury time and time again.