You Think You Can't Do These Things, Nemo...

So for those of you who have children, or for those of you who just happend to see the movie, "Finding Nemo", the following might ring a bell...

There is a scene (there may be more than one, it's been awhile since I've seen the movie), where Albert Brooks, who plays Nemo's dad, tells his young son, "You think you can do these things, Nemo, but you can't..." and one of the major points of the movie, is that, yes, in fact, Dad, your son (and all of us) are capable of much more than what others impose on us.

Fine.

Brian and I have had to change the line slightly for our children, who seem to constantly tell us that they can't do something, to the following:

"You think you can't do these things, Nemo, but you can."

Today Emma came home from school with a sore finger...it seems she was trying to catch a basketball today, and the finger in question (third finger, right hand) got hit and is slightly swollen...there is only slight bruising, no bones poking through the skin and she can still bend the finger (slowly, but she can do it), which means that there are no broken bones...

However.

This is the same kind of injury that she sustained about a year ago...an injury that sent us to CHEO (that would be Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario for those of you who are not familiar with the place)...she had an xray, and as I suspected, there were no broken bones...and so today when she came home and told me about what had happened to her finger, I checked to make sure we didn't need to go to the emergency room again (I am not one of those parents who call the doctor and/or head to a clinic or emergency room for every little thing)...we didn't/don't.

Emma, however, is unimpressed with my lack of hand-wringing and screaming, "What happened to my baby?" kind of drama and tried to tell me that there was no way she'd be able to do her homework because she can't hold a pen...

"Sure you can," I told her, picking up a pen.  "Look, you can hold it this way," sticking out my ring finger and showing her that while it might be awkward, there is definitely nothing to prevent her from completing her homework.

She stared disappointedly at me for a second and then walked away saying, "Please excuse me while I go pout for a minute."

I think she'll be fine...