Why is it that when you fall or hurt yourself as an adult, its like a million times worse than when you were a kid? I watch my boys take some amazing spills and I rush over to console them, yet they look at me like I am an ambulance chaser.

Yet the other day, I was sitting at the computer, and Abram had climbed up on my lap. I took this time to start kissing on him and tickling him, feeling quite safe in my large computer chair. As his weight began to shift, I could feel the two of us leaning back further and further. For some reason, I had a false sense of security, because in a flash the chair tipped back. It actually slid out from under me, and the back of my head hit the sideboard of my bed. Abram was still on top of me, and he looked just as stunned as I did.

I actually stayed in that position, shocked, for a minute. The pain was so excruciating that I was sure that it must be someone else experiencing the pain. After all, I was a dignified mom that could remain upright on any given day.

Abram pounced off my limp body, and asked me if I was okay. I quietly, with complete mental paralysis, said humbly, "Yes", but I what I really meant was, "NOOO!"

He was still standing over me a few seconds later, and I still hadn't moved for fear that the intensity of the pain would be more extreme if I actually moved. I somehow believed that the longer I stayed in that position the quicker things would go back to normal. This just wasn't so. Eventually, I realized I needed to get up, and join the living.

I, as unladylike as possible, stammered out of the chair. That is when I realized that the impact was so hard that two of the plastic rollers had actually popped off the bottom of my chair. Abram, losing patience with his dormant mom , gleefully went along to play. I secretly wondered if he was thinking, "Suck it up Mom, that kind of stuff is an hourly experience for me." On the otherhand, I felt like I was lucky to be alive!

I didn't cry out, but I kept touching the back of my head to make sure that my skull was all in one piece, and nothing inappropriate was bulging out.

Now, days later, as I sit here, still missing one roller under the said chair, I am leary. Like a deer that has been shot at during hunting season, the slightest imbalance causes me to cling to my desk, and let out a pathetic little squeal of fear. I have been reduced to a fearful blogger, while sitting in my teeter-totter chair.