home, safe home?

It's official. I totally stink at being a safe, protective mother.

You see, Chandler broke his collarbone yesterday. That brings me to a perfect record - every one of my children has broken a bone. I'm five for five!

I'm not sure what I do wrong. My mom raised 7 children and to my knowledge, only one of them ever broke a bone on her watch. I, myself, did not break a bone until I was 31. I went cliff-jumping at Youth Conference (where I probably should have been acting like a responsible adult) and broke my arm when I hit the water crooked.

Chandler actually waited the longest to break a bone. He made it to the ripe old age of 9! Yep, I managed to keep him safe for 9 whole years plus 22 days! Then, I let him play a nice, friendly neighborhood game of football and he gets tackled and breaks his collarbone. So much for my safety record on that kid.

Here's the rundown:

Brakston - broken arm at age 5 while rollerblading
Alec - collarbone at age 3 when climbing furniture, hairline fracture in his leg at age 5 when a shopping cart tipped over with him in it
McKayla - broken collarbone at birth (being born - maybe I can't be held responsible for that one), compound fracture of arm at age 8 when riding her bike
Shanley - broken collarbone at age 3 falling off a bunk bed
Chandler - broken collarbone at age 9 playing tackle football

Let's not even start mentioning all the stitches my children have had...I don't want anyone to think they should start calling Child Protective Services.