A few stories from our apparently somewhat eventful day.

I don't know. The highlight of my day was maybe when Q got into my bathroom closet & into a box full of nail polish (I have quite the collection, despite my unwillingness to ever paint my own nails). In typical fashion, he dug in to the container & began to throw them around the bathroom. I should mention that Quinn loves taking things apart, creating chaos out of order - puzzles, stacking rings, magnetic books, my stash of lipgloss, etc. - generally tossing things behind his shoulders with reckless abandon. Only rarely does he decide that he wants to regain order & put things back together. So - he began tossing about the fingernail polish, only for me to emerge from my closet to see total bathroom + nail polish carnage. See, nail polish comes in glass containers. And my floor is tile. Which means that several things of polish had shattered upon hitting the ground. 

It looked like a murder scene in hot pinks, greys & reds. 

Glass + polish + a toddler who wants to get into everything meant that I had to act fast, had to contain him quickly, & had to get the polish off of my floor before it became a (semi)permanent fixture on my bathroom floor.  Into the bathtub he went, where he (more-or-less) happily played until I was finished cleaning up. He only turned the water on himself once. 

Earlier in the day! I was in the kitchen when Q wandered off to play with the toilet paper (one of his favorite pastimes of late). I heard ear-piercing shrieking just a minute or so later, & ran into the powder room to find that Q had wedged his head between the exposed metal hardware under the sink & the wall. He was absolutely stuck.

(Now, I say powder room & all of a sudden that sounds pretentious, but you know - the bathroom off of our kitchen that is meant for guests & doesn't have a tub or a shower. A powder room.) 

The metal bar was squishing his cheek, & he was totally unable to twist himself out. The more he screamed the more he became stuck, & I immediately pictured the necessity of ripping the sink from the wall to free him (I did not think about how I would accomplish this on my own, of course). Long story short - I got him out, his cheeks were really red, & he was really sad for a few minutes. 

How he got stuck like that I will never, ever know. 

And then! I literally stuck my neck out for my son. If I ever doubted my motherly love + involuntary instinct, I'll never again. It can only be described as a freak accident, really. I was changing Q's bum after a nap, with him lying down on the ground next to his bedroom dresser. I had opened the top drawer just a few seconds before, & forgot to close it. After finishing getting Q changed + dressed, & with him still on the floor, I jumped up quickly from the floor - hitting the drawer hard enough from below that it knocked it off of the track & out of the dresser. The (heavy) drawer flew through the air, plummeting towards Quinn's face. 

I did what any mother would do - dove over Quinn & under the drawer mid-air, where it crashed into my head, slid down the side of my face & shoulder & thudded onto the ground - just a few inches from Quinn's head. It hurt, & I yelled.

But Quinn - he was totally fine, & he stared at me with a look that said Oh my gosh mom, that was really close. 

The whole thing took about .47 seconds, but I can still see it in slow motion, & a drawer falling from 5 feet up & landing on my little boy's face could have been a really bad situation. Even if my neck will likely be a little sore tomorrow, I'm just happy to know that I love Q as much as I think I do. I'd walk through fire for him any day. 

Internet, lots of pats on the back for me today. I did a few things right.

But seriously - Here's to hoping tomorrow will be less eventful.