I have determined that my daughter shares one very important trait with her father. She is accident prone.
On Friday afternoon, she was walking laps around the coffee table, as she does several times each day. She had a toy in one hand and there was a toy on the floor in front of her. The next thing I know she's on the floor on all fours and screaming. Poor baby fell, as she often does, and when I picked her up and turned her towards me to kiss it better I saw the blood.
I ran to the bathroom to wipe the blood away and realized that this little cut was going to require a stitch or two. It wasn't long, but it was deep.
Two hours later, and my sweet baby had two blue stitches in her eyebrow. Thankfully the wound didn't really bleed as badly as I was expecting, and she only cried for about 3 minutes. I can't say the same for the stitching process, because she screamed like crazy the whole time they were messing with her, bue they had her all wrapped up in this blue papoose/straight jacket so she would be still. It was difficult for Nick and myself to watch, and all we could do was stand next to her and talk her through it. I shed a few tears and big strong Daddy couldn't watch. But we all survived.