Bringing Up Brunsons

My boys fight. A lot. I needed a solution. Several days ago I came up with one. Running. The kids and I lined up at the fence in the backyard and raced the width of the yard to the other fence. We did this back and forth for approximately 1 hour. They are now obsessed with it. They are constantly in the back racing each other, and most of the time I'm out there as well (with strict "mom can't win" rules). They are loving it.

Yesterday morning Corbin's racing desires started early. It was about 8:30 am, and it was cold outside. So instead of racing out in the backyard I suggested racing inside, from the back door to the front door (I know, how dumb can I be?). The racing began. After the 4th or 5th race Corbin taunted me "You lost every time." And I thought, well, not this time little man, and I geared up to win.

The race began, we got about halfway done, and that's when it happened. I fell. I'm a not so skinny girl, so this was a not so graceful fall. I went down in slow motion, like a sack of potatoes. Then because of the momentum that was built up I slid, "slip n' slide" style across the carpet, nearly taking both boys down with me. Finally it was over. My knee was burning. I sat up, laughing at myself, and examined the damage. As I picked carpet fibers out of my rug-burned knee I became aware of the boys standing above me. I looked at them. "What happened?" Corbin said in the most confused yet mocking tone I've ever heard. "I don't know." I said "I think I tripped." Even though I don't actually remember tripping, just falling. I have no idea how it happened. Then he suggested I tripped over Jessie (who had somehow managed to get within the racing path un-noticed before the race had begun). Then Corbin, Dex and I laughed together and decided that was enough racing for the moment. Lesson learned. Racing will go on, but outside, until further notice.