"OWIE"

(CLASSIC Cora face here. This was pre-"owie" and she was scolding James...)

Oh Cora. Always the adventurous, fear-nothing, I-can-do-it-too, second child. The poor girl has had far more bumps and bruises and cuts (mostly on her head...) than James ever had as a toddler. For that matter, her overall tally is probably higher than his even though he's been on this earth 15 months longer than her. Today was just one more for the record books. But it was a bad one...

After riding bikes around the track, the kids retreated to the van for drinks and snacks while I changed into my workout clothes. Cora sat in her car seat, James sat at the door ledge, legs dangling. When I was ready, I told them to climb down so we could go inside. James hopped down. Cora carefully climbed out of her car seat, onto the 2nd row seat, down into the base of the van. Then for some unknown reason she just launched herself out the door, with one hand holding her box of raisins and the other holding her sippy cup. And I was parked next to a curb.

At first I panicked, because she cried a different cry and it IMMEDIATELY swelled and bruised. And James was whining about the spilled raisins, so I was surrounded by chaos. She really only cried for about a minute and a half, but I was still worried. I checked inside her mouth - no chipped teeth, no bit tongue or cheek, no blood anywhere. Everything looked OK. But oh, her poor CHEEK...

We iced it some (until it got too cold and made her furious). We refilled the sippy cup with cold water. We ate some crackers that our little pal Alex shared while I hung out with her in the YMCA daycare room. And then that was that. She calmed down and I went to work out. And when her Daddy came home and saw that red, scraped cheek, all he could do was pout and not kiss her too much or squeeze her too tight. Because as she says, she has an "owie!"