I am comforted by the fact that anyone who has been a parent has had this moment at some point in their life.
This morning Jason had a funeral. Since I had a conference call I could not get out of at work, we had asked one of our neighbors to take Baby Girl for a few hours this morning until Jason could free up from the funeral. As a result, this morning was a bit more complicated than normal as I was preparing bottles, juice cup, lunch, diaper bag, etc., all things Jason normally takes care of as he has her during the day and knows what that particular day will demand.
We're in the kitchen, and I am rushing back and forth putting my stuff in the car, unfolding her stroller, double-checking that her bag has all of the necessaries, and she is happily playing on the floor. Just as I turn to pick her up and put her in the stroller, I discover she has crawled over to the (normally closed) door leading to the garage. Just as I looked over, she was staring in fascination at the vast expanse of the two steps that leads down to the garage landing and reaching forward with her hand.
Thank goodness the kid can roll, she "gently" bumped down the linoleum-covered steps. She survived, but it left a terrific shiner.
After I got to her and scooped her up, we went and sat down to rock. I don't know if I was trying to comfort her or me.
I'll update this later with pictures of what I am sure will be her photograph-worthy head adornment.
UPDATE.See Pictures Here.