Omg. My son is a daredevil and I can’t tell you how many times I have dropped him off at daycare blubbering desperately about how I turned my back for ONE SECOND. I don’t even bother explaining all the cuts he gets on arms and legs and torso—I’m just talking about his beautiful stupid little face.
The worst by far was actually when he was six months old though. I’ll never forget it. I had one of those doorway bouncers up in the kitchen—he loved that thing!—but when I went to extract him it lifted the bracers up a little, dislodged the heavy metal decorative sun nailed just above it, which plummeted directly down onto my son’s forehead. He did that delayed scream thing. Looked at me in the eyes and there was this mixture of fear and reproach that is seared into my mind’s eye forever.
He had a terrible little indentation in his forehead for quit a while. First and (god I hope) last time a doctor has ever looked like she was deciding whether she believed me.
Anyway, toddlers are suicidal maniacs, friend. Don’t beat yourself up!