Allow me to paint a picture: My kids and I, along with my brother's family and my parents, traversed a hike in the gorge to celebrate a beautiful Spring Break day. We discovered on our return trip from the upper falls that we needed to take a little detour. With the bridge washed out, we needed to cross over the raging, freezing, deep torrents on a log placed just so for such an occasion. Mind you, it was a huge log, so it wasn't really that precarious -- unless you are a four-year-old. As Connor and I, holding hands, neared the far side, he lost his footing and went off the side. As my mind registered that his little body was dangling ten feet over the water, I thought, I've got him! Then just as quickly I thought, We're both going in! As I valiantly fought the beast of balance that attempted to draw us both into its icy clutches, I reached back and grabbed a wee twig - one no larger than my pinky. This little respite allowed just enough time for my superpowers to kick in and right both of us up. When we reached stable land, Connor whimpered a few times and quietly declared, I almost fell in the waterfall, mommy. A little farther down trail and I saw that we were just upstream from a very, very high waterfall.
I am mother. Hear me roar.
