Foreheads on ice

Earlier this week, Baby Boone received his first bruise. Boy Wonder, being very interested in tents, had draped several blankets over the coffee table. Before I could tell him that this was not a great idea, Baby Boone had launched himself toward the bright, pretty blankets which to him must have appeared to be miraculously floating in the middle of the room. Unfortunately, since there was still a coffee table underneath them, he bonked his forehead but good. Many tears and an ice-pack session ensured, and he ended up with a good-sized bump on the right side of his forehead.

Apparently, my subconscious felt guilty about this, as I have now managed to give myself a similar bruise. Baby Boone woke up at 4:15 this morning, much distressed and crying loudly, and I raced into the boys' room to tend to him before Boy Wonder woke up. Baby Boone was already standing up in his crib, so I picked him up and headed for the door, casting a glance over my left shoulder to make sure that Boy Wonder was still asleep. He was, but the over-the-shoulder glance threw me off balance. Instead of making a neat exit, I ended up whacking my left temple on the doorframe. (Fortunately, I am right-handed and carry Baby Boone on my dominant side, so he was unharmed. Although I'm sure he was mildly startled when I stopped and began quietly swearing like a sailor.) As an added bonus, this moment of gracefulness also left a large bruise on my upper left arm.