Yesterday

I was just a mom.
A mom of 5.
A mom of 5 kids, with one that was 5 days old.
A mom that was recovering from the past few weeks.
And with bouts of lice (ew), car repairs, a non-cooperative uterus, extended birthing process, plenty of physical ailments that I'll spare you the details of...I naively thought things couldn't get worse.


Actually, my mom and I were looking forward to the upcoming week.  Grandma Jane was flying in that afternoon and more family to come later in the week.  It would be nice to put a close to the chapter on these last few weeks.  Together we were up early cleaning bathrooms, floors, stairs, etc...with many warnings from my mom to take it easy.  But I'm a strong women.  I rarely take a break.  Plus, I love a clean house.  In my head I reminded myself it was just a few chores, a quick trip to walmart for milk and a easy afternoon to recoup.

So naive.


Today, I'm still a mom.
A mom of 5 kids.
A mom of a 6 day old and one with stitches.


After those brief errands and chores, Grandma treated us to Chick-fil-A.  One of our favorite hang outs.

Although now, I'd have to put it on the bottom of my list.

Assuming that most restaurants try their best to protect their playgrounds, wrap every inch in foam, place squishy cushioning on the ground you would think they wouldn't leave places that are obviously dangerous exposed to the children.

At ground level, along the wall was a whole.  A whole that was made through a piece of tile, leaving a jagged edge.  An edge that sliced open my daughters toe.  At an angle, close to bones and tendons.  So close to important pieces a trip to a "Children's Emergency Room" was necessary.


And sadly, even an hour after the incident, accident forms filled out, pictures taken, witnesses information taken the "death trap" was still there.  Still open.  Still dangerous.

I thought bad things came "in 3's".

Not 10's.