Today we went to your grandparents' house and you played outside with your cousins. You're only thirteen months old, but you love to run and play with the big kids. And I love watching you play.
When we announced that you were a boy, we immediately began receiving the typical warnings about how rough and tumble boys can be. I mentally and emotionally prepared myself for the bumps, bruises, blood, and broken bones. And I waited.
I didn't wait long. You hit physical milestones at a rapid pace. You could go from sitting to standing without pulling up on anything when you were 6 months old. You were walking at 9 months. There were bumps on your head and bruises on your shins before I ever imagined there would be.
But there was something about seeing you get your first scraped knee while playing outside today....
You were pushing a little plastic lawnmower. It was unusually warm today so you had on thin gym shorts. You don't wear shoes a lot and I think they tripped you up. You hit your knee and I sucked in my breath. I waited for the tears and the "mamamamamama" but they never came. You got up and kept going.
My boy. My sweet, sweet boy. I felt a shift today. You've been more toddler and less baby every today, but today in that moment I REALLY felt it.
Tonight you pointed to your knee and I kissed it. I'm here and ready for all the scraped knees to come. <3