Bumps.

Yesterday in the midst of trying to blow-dry my hair, sending off some overdue emails about some weekend details, getting info about fall swimming lessons and feeding my pajama clad one year old lunch, I realized that life is getting a little crazy.

Henry, Maddy and I leave tomorrow for Chicago, Jeff and Tyler come on Friday.

School starts next Tuesday. Last night was an eventful open house with issues sparked on the way our school keeps family records. I might have more to say about that next week...we'll see how it all pans out.

I'm trying to do a million things at once and chase a 16 month old around. I pack a suitcase, he empties it.

I put something away, he takes it out.

I whined on the phone about how hyper he's been since the wee hours of the morning and my mom put it in perspective when she said; "At least he's happy and healthy, he could be bed-ridden."

Yeah, I agreed and then followed up by saying at least he doesn't cry all the time.

Fast forward a little bit.

While Henry and I were in the basement, I attended to laundry, he played. Like he always does when I'm doing laundry.

Until I walked to Tyler's room and watched him on the second rung of Tyler's bunkbed ladder. And then I watched him go ker-plunk.

And cry he did.

Crying, screaming, wiggling in my arms.

Twenty minutes later he was slowly calming down and gasping since his tears had gotten him all choked up.

Thankfully, he is still ok. Even though those twenty minutes were long, brutal and hard, he's going to be ok.

And the bumps on his head will hopefully add character.

And a little more color in pictures at the wedding this weekend.

Ironically enough, today he's wearing a "Born To Climb" shirt. But really, it could always be worse. We all need some bumps along the way, don't we?