Bumps, Bruises and Chipped Teeth.

Today my crazy baby was trying to keep up with his older cousins, and fell down some wooden stairs while trying to get down from a treehouse at our local children's museum. It looked bad and sounded bad, but Parker was already running a fever [insert judgement here] and had been up from midnight-5:30am with a terrible case of croup, so honestly, the fall didn't really seem to faze him. His already glazed eyes just got a little bit glossier, and his already runny nose just ran a little bit faster. Did today feel like a train wreck from start to finish? Absolutely. But don't most sleepless days? And the show must go on!

So on we went.

Honestly, I was a little caught off guard when Parker didn't cry post-fall. Then I was a little more caught off guard when I got him home and realized he had chipped his front tooth. My not even two year old had chipped his damn front tooth.

Something about seeing that baby pearly white chipped at the corner just about ruined me. I think it's because newborns come into the world absolutely perfect, and I'd like to keep my kid so fresh and so clean for as long as I can. But then I also want to expose him to new things and encourage him to run wild and free. One of the great tug-o-wars of parenthood, perhaps? As I watch my newborn turn into a baby and then quickly toddler his way into early childhood, I've noticed quite a few bumps, bruises, scars and chipped teeth along the way. 

"It just comes with the territory, Laura. He's a rough and tumble boy who is growing up,"  my husband explained to me tonight, as I glanced at Parker's scratched up legs from our recent Denny Creek hike, and his freshly chipped tooth. Both serving as visual reminders of memories well made with my independent and adventuresome kid, as well as the reality that my perfect and blemishless baby has somehow transformed into a boy. A rough and tumble, and not-yet two-year-old boy.