…where we knew–every night, without fail–it was time for her to go to bed once she hurt herself, in the way that kids learning to sit up and crawl and walk (and then learning to run…and then learning to run away) do.
It hit me tonight, as Rusty came screaming into the kitchen in his pajamas, having smacked his finger on the corner of a wall, that the same has been true of all these kids.
It’s just, there’s five of them now.
That’s a lot of crying and yelling.
A whole, whole lot.