Who knows the stubbornness that lays in the heart of Toddlers?

TIFFANY!

She knows. God, does she know. In the past ten minutes she has undergone contortions that would make a circus performer or a stripper blush, in an attempt to go around the desk, behind the chair, behind the other chair, and back to the side of the recliner where she started. And then we go BOOM again.

There was glory in the BOOM. There was blood, there was sweat, there were even tears. Oh, and she was upset too. I thought at first she had just done the fall like most of the others she's done in the past week. I picked her up, cuddled her, and then I saw the blood. Oy, the blood. It should not be possible for my heart to stop like that. I've lost track of the times I've seen blood. Myself, other people's. And I can cope just fine. But this is my BABY. Bleeding. Like any mother of the animal kingdom I put my nose about two inches from her body, examining every inch of her with a forensic scrutiny that CSI would be proud of. What happened is, she bit her lip. And it bled. Not much, not badly, but yet- my baby got hurt.

Not that she knows it now. She's on a determined exploration of the linen cupboard. I'm so thankful that I stacked the linens all on the bottom. Because that's one cupboard that I don't get afraid that she's going to get into mischief with, what with the opening and closing of the door. This might be more fun than standing up.