Well, it’s been sort of a stomach-churning week around here. First Quinn tipped a patio chair and smashed her hand, resulting in gore I don’t even want to describe (suffice it to say, fingernails and skin were lost). She is heavily bandaged but keeps pulling it off, generally when I’m driving and can’t do anything about it. She happily coos, “Bandaid!” while Juniper sobs, “Mom, the mitten! SHE’S PULLING OFF THE MITTEN!!!” and I pull over and try not to vomit and fetch the stash of bandages I now carry around in the diaper bag. FUN.

And then, not three nights later, we had supper at a buddy’s house and first Quinn fell down the stairs – backwards, head first – and then Juniper fell off a swing – backwards, head first (I was doing what Drew is doing in the photo below, except, you know, wrong.) No concussions or anything, actually, no bumps even, which seems impossible given the physics, but a lot of crying and several nights of me lying awake replaying horrible images in my head. Quinn’s little body was like a sled, people, a little plank shooting down the stairs and gliding to a stop on the tile floor below. It blows my mind that she is, all in all, okay. So grateful and guilty and gun-shy to let her do anything anymore. Juniper’s fine too, somehow walked away with just a headache. We are so lucky.

Anyways, glad to have happier photos from earlier in the week to be looking at while I type this. I love these little dinkers so much, sometimes I wish I just had some giant hamster balls I could put them into, until they’re 18 or so.