first bruise

Z started walking about three weeks ago. He had been “walking” with our hands for months (even before he started crawling) but he just didn’t want to let go. We’ve certainly learned that Z does everything in his own time, and we weren’t trying to rush him (though our backs were starting to suffer). And then he accidentally took a couple steps on his own. And three days later he took a few more. And a few days after that, he started doing laps between me and my mom. And after that it was all over. He now paces up and down the hallway, going in an out of rooms along the way. He practically runs circles around the little island in our kitchen, climbing through the legs of anyone he meets along the way. And he does it with the most adorable grin on his face – he is clearly soooo happy to be mobile.

After only three weeks, though, he’s still a little wobbly and he’s totally oblivious to changes in terrain. So when he batted my hand away on some uneven sidewalk in Rhinebeck this afternoon, he did his first full-on face plant. Now Z cries a lot, and even some of his tears of frustration are pretty real. But this was different. He was clearly scared and a little banged up and it was all I could do to not start crying myself. Poor baby.

Side note: I’m often amazed at how quickly my frustration with him disappears when he really needs me. He’d been fussing and complaining for a good part of the afternoon and I was about ready to drop him at the local firehouse. And then this happened and all I wanted to do was snuggle him and make it all better. I feel the same way after he goes to sleep each night. I often long for the end of the day so I can get a break from him, and then as soon as he’s asleep I kind of miss him.

So Z was fine after a few minutes and was back to toddling around the streets of Rhinebeck. But an hour or so later this little red bruise showed up on his left cheek. He’s had a couple little bruises on his knees (and the crazy self-inflicted hickey when he was just a few months old), but this was the first time the big bad world left its mark on my baby. I know I have to brace myself for much more serious incidents – he is a crazy boy, after all, bound for trouble. But I’ll be holding his hand a little tighter for awhile, ready to scoop him up the moment he starts to totter.