Last summer, I sliced my foot open on an outdoor electrical box. Gimping, sure I cut an artery, and seriously trying not to cry, I called my husband. The advice from the man who has broken more bones than I can count? “Just get in the pool. It will clean it out.”

I may never listen to him again …

I still have a giant scar that runs the length of my foot and disqualifies me from ever being a foot model. Just in case I ever decided that was a plausible option … I’ve hurt myself like that a thousand times in my life, but scars have a funny way of keeping the story fresh in your mind.

This past week, FireCracker learned a tough lesson. Just this summer, she’s grown tall enough to pedal her bike by herself. Ever since she got it for Christmas 1.5 years ago, she’s sat on it and asked me to push her. She’s been so proud that she can ride it herself, and the other day, we even went on a more-than-a–mile ride – a pretty long way for 3-year-old legs.

Well, the other night she left it in the driveway in front of hubby’s truck, and he hit it. I came out just in time to see the shock, horror and pure devastation on her face.

After a lot of tears and holding, we were able to work out a plan. She’s been doing chores (feeding chickens, setting the table and picking up all of her toys) to get ‘moneys’ to fix her bike. It’s normally an epic battle to get her to pick up her toys. It’s been a bittersweet process to watch her face disappointment and take ownership of her circumstances. It will take a while for her to save, but I don’t think she’ll forget this.

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Even several days later she says “I’m so sorry I left my bike out” out of the blue. This from the kid who I was almost certain was allergic to the word “sorry.”

After the storm a couple nights ago, I noticed one of my tomato plants had snapped and I need to weave the rest in to the fence better. Actually, Matt suggested I weave them better. I knew from when I did that before, the stems get little cuts, so I’d just left them be. They were fine until the wind came.

“What’s better, hurting them a little now, or having the whole thing break?” he asked.

I am slightly, a little bit ‘protective’ of my garden and it makes me nervous that I’m going to lose the whole crop when any little thing goes wrong. This is why I tend to overplant, and I’m about to go out and pick 42 cucumbers.

I’d assumed that rubbing the outside of the stem would ruin the plant. I just went to check them again. That tomato that broke? It’s healed nicely. The cut scarred over. It’s still growing.

These days, I’m learning to appreciate scars and the lessons they teach.

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