Have I mentioned that Mary Clare has my grace? New scratches, bruises and bumps are a daily occurrence. A few weeks ago, while we were at a friend's house, she nailed the corner of their mailbox, taking a good chunk out of her head about 1.2 seconds before we were supposed to go swimming.
Her exuberance for life means that others around her are in constant peril as well. Last night, as I took her out of the bathtub, she jumped up at the exact second I was leaning down to wrap the towel around her. Wham! She nailed the underside of my chin so hard I thought for sure the scar from a 32-year-old injury had opened. I may have gotten tears in my eyes. And let out a "Dammit!" Not directed at her, mind you, but a dammit nonetheless. And then I felt bad, because she kept apologizing so profusely it broke my heart.
Fast forward oh, say, 15 minutes, and I am putting on her pajamas. She is lying on the bed and her foot completely nails me in the forehead. Again, a complete accident—she wasn't even horsing around or trying to kick me (because, sadly, that does happen some nights).
When I let out another "Ow!" she turned those brown eyes on me and said, "I'm really sorry, mommy. I just don't know what's wrong with my body tonight."
Poor thing. She was genuinely confused as to why these "ackshidents" keep happening to her and those around her.
Speaking as someone with 37 years of accidents and excellent falls under her belt, all I can say is own it, baby. And learn to laugh at yourself and offer genuine apologies. Because you'll be doing a lot of both. You inherited a few too many of your mommy's genes, I'm afraid.