When my son was born, that was absolutely the only experience I ever had with a teensy tiny newborn. I'd held my cousin's babies, but only after they were past that terrifying 'I might accidentally break this fragile creature' phase. And that was about all I'd done - I'd hold them for two seconds, they'd begin to scream after sensing my extreme lack of experience in the child department, & back to mommy they'd go. I wasn't aware of the danger of injury to myself the tiny creatures possess.
When my son was around five months & not able to do much besides sit up & drool, he managed to head butt me with enough force to chip my front tooth. He cried for a maximum of 15 seconds, then laughed at my wail of horror at realizing I had just swallowed a piece of my own tooth. Around Christmas when he was ten months old, I had a spectacular skid on a small wagon into a chair, ending up with a very festive half-wreath of blue-black-green bruising on my ribs. It was something straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon. I'm not going to delve into the many other bruises & scrapes.
Yesterday Booger was playing with a toy hammer (not a real one) & using it to beat down towers of blocks I was building for him. Great fun, easy way to keep him occupied while I tried to straighten out a bill over the phone. Until he hauled off & threw the hammer at me. He nailed me right in the side of the wrist, & it hurt. He laughed at the silly sound-effect the hammer makes whenever it hits anything, mom or inanimate object. Today, its swollen a half-inch & is a nasty purple-ish color. And yeah, it hurts a bit while typing.
I'm just thankful I'm going to school for nursing, because injuries are par for the course until your kids are out of the house.