My oldest was somewhere between one and two one day when I went to pick her up from my mother’s house, and she climbed up on a dining room chair . . . and fell off, knocking the back of her head against the not-rounded edge of the table. There was a lot of blood, and a lot of crying. My brother was there, freaking out, insisting that I had to take her to the emergency room (I mean, a lot of blood). Thankfully I’ve learned that I have a pretty good head in a crisis situation, and I didn’t panic, also (not until afterwards). I held her, keeping a compress to the wound, rocking her while she cried herself out. She was fine. I don’t even think I took her to the doctor’s office afterwards (scalp wounds bleed a lot, even when they’re very superficial). But it was one of the most terrifying things I’ve been through.

(I’ve been reading your ‘blog since October or November of last year, but I’ve never had anything worthwhile to say!)
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