First Blood

So you see that previous post below that says I have nothing to post? Well, I lied.

How could I forget that the inevitable had finally occurred. A momentous event that a parent will never forget. At 27 months and 28 days of age, our precious first-born son drew serious blood.

Being the big boy that he is, he was outside in the garage helping Daddy put away the Christmas lights. (OK, so we're a little behind in that area - big deal.)

One of Dylan's favorite things to play with in the garage is our treadmill. That great big expensive piece of exercise equipment that we purchased more than two years ago to motivate me to lose the baby weight. (Insert hysterical laughter here.) It may be unplugged and gathering dust, but at least I don't hang laundry on it.

Anyhoo, Dylan the Monkey likes to swing on the sidebar of the treadmill. He was doing just that when, according to witnesses (AKA Daddy) he swung out too far, came back in, let go and slammed his head and face into the sidebar.

So you see before you now pictures that only barely capture the aftermath of the accident. Note the large bump protruding from his forehead as well as the fat upper lip. The blood came from the lip. For the rest of the night Dylan spoke with a pronounced lisp. It was both heartbreaking and funny.

Dylan. I feel as though he has gone through a rite of passage. Blood has been shed. He is now a boy, no longer a toddler, no more a baby. (Sigh!)