"Mrs X, this is the school nurse. Your daughter fell off the monkey bars while doing a back off with a half twist. Don't worry, she broke the fall with her face. Can you come pick her up? She's easy to see. The egg she now has doesn't fit in the room so part of her will be sitting on the curb when you pull up."
Ok, so the egg wasn't quite that big. And I really have no idea what she was trying to do. I do know that this is not the first time she has tried to do it, and landed on her face. The nurse has my number on speed dial. Has since Kindergarten when Girl X decided to take a boy up on a dare.
I believe it started when he said something about girls in skirts are sissies. Something that my little skirt-wearing tomboy wouldn't take sitting down. The school has this slide that seems to go on forever. Facing downhill. Screaming for kids to break the rules and ride it backwards and upside down.
She waited until all the kids were being called to go back to class and she knew the playground patrol would be busy. She climbed to the top, layed down on her tummy and went backwards down the wet slide and straight into the bark and dirt at the bottom.
She walked back to class without saying a word.
No way was she telling! One, she probably would have cried the way I did when I saw her after school and she was not giving some boy the satisfaction. Two, she was pretty sure she had done something stupid and therefore, trouble!
The teacher asked her about the hole in her tights. Did she fall? Girl X shrugged and went back to work.
She got off the bus at the end of the day and we walked home. She didn't say a word until we got to the garage.
"Mom. I have to show you something."
When she lifted her shirt, she had angry red cuts and scratches from her chest to her bellybutton and all across her abdomen. It was beginning to bruise underneath the cuts.
She healed but she didn't learn.
I make regular trips to the nurses office now. I have no doubt that it will continue as, I believe I've mentioned this before, she has inherited my gracefullness and my husband's sense of adventure. Someone who managed to break her foot tripping over a brick and someone who thought parachuting would be fun (after my look of death, he settled for shopping on black friday and dinner with his mom).
Note to Baby X: Mom can only handle one daredevil at a time. Please stick to trying to make Cat pull you around the house by his back legs and eating his tail. Thanks.