Nothing like starting out the week feeling awful.
Ian was running around the living room this morning while we all got ready for the day. He would stand still in one spot for a moment and then yell "Go!" before running across the room to another spot. Repeat. It was adorable.
One of his trips didn't turn out so well. He stumbled and fell head first into a box that is waiting to go to storage. His temple hit the corner of the box and he fell into a puddle of tears on the floor.
While he buried his face into my shirt I tried my best to get an ice pack, that Daddy delivered, onto Ian's boo-boo. Ian would have none of it. So, I was forced to give up and just give him a dose of Tylenol for the pain.
Then I had to deliver my tear streaked, hurting kid to day care with a bruise and a growing goose egg on his forehead.
I hate being the mom with the broken kid at day care.
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