Yesterday my little girl was swinging on her belly and she overbalanced and scraped her faced across the ground before she recovered. I was inside, and then outside before the first scream segued to the next, only to laugh as she spluttered dirt out of her mouth and shrieked at the indignity of it all. After much cuddling and tentative face washing and several attempts to put a bandage on just the right spot (all were eventually torn off as ineffectual), she forgot she was hurt.
In my mind I have a long, long white wall, on which are hung many "Bad Mommy" plaques, one for each lapse in judgment or self-control or completely unavoidable incident which damages my children. I did not award myself the Bad Mommy yesterday, although one could argue that letting my girl play alone outside, unsupervised, was a bad choice.