“Don’t catch me, Mommy!” my three-year-old exclaimed as I reached for him.
He was busy bounding up and down the bleacher steps at his Daddy’s baseball game last night. Happy and confident, he was taking such pleasure in the loud “boom” the metal planks made with each exaggerated step that he took. He was having a most wonderful time.
I, on the other hand, was watching with bated breath. My insides clenched with anxiety with each move he made, as I just waited for him to fall. My mommy instincts were in full effect, and I swooped in to rescue him. I reached out for his hand. Continue reading