If you love someone, keep them in a padded room.

I grew up in a family full of worriers. I had a fire escape ladder under my bed and was trained to use it from a young age. Stranger danger might have been the first phrase I uttered and my parents even had me finger-printed in case I was ever kidnapped. I never fully understood that one but I guess my dad would have tracked me down a la Liam Neeson in "Taken"? They even put me in the fridge after I fell to reduce swelling.

Ok, that's probably not true but I don't have a better explanation for what's going on in this picture.


Blame nature, nurture, or a wicked combination of both but I fully realize that I am just a bit of a worrier myself. The good news, I've been telling myself, is that I married my opposite in that respect. I could worry enough for the both of us and G could tell me I'm being crazy. (Not actually well received in practice.) He never thought it was reasonable to barricade myself in the bedroom when he is out of town and refused to listen when I'd map out my running course ahead of time. I still don't know how he would have searched for me if I hadn't come home from one of those runs.

As it turns out though, he has a little bit of a worrier in him after all, at least when it comes to his incubating offspring! Recently we were hiking in the canyon near our house. It's really more like walking since it is flat and paved but that makes us sound old. A car came around the corner rather quickly and the driver didn't appear to be 100% in control. G turns to me and says "You know if you get hit, it's really important to pick your feet up." He said something about my knees snapping and momentum that I didn't really hear. He then launched into a speech about how to fall. It included something about absorbing the impact on the side of my body and using my shoulders. I should protect my abdomen at all costs and put my arms around my head. I was soon fully trained to be an MLS goalie and he was ready for me to start practicing. He actually asked me to try falling down the hill. I turned to him and said "You would like me to voluntarily throw myself on the pavement and tumble down a hill into a tree?" He still thought it was perfectly reasonable training for me to undertake. It was at that point I realized that I married my father and that I might as well save money on baby clothes and just buy a roll of this.

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This might be the last bump picture I take outside of my new padded cell. Here it is at 13 weeks!

Feet are still perfectly visible! (Helps with balance and proper technique when jumping off cliffs etc.)