What's Worse Than Skinned Knees?

Well, Mason's running now, full time. He hardly ever crawls anymore.

Personally, I liked it when he crawled. Crawling keeps babies close to the ground, where there's little chance they can be hurt. It's tough to trip while you're getting around on all fours. But now, every little wobbly baby step that kid takes makes me hold my breath. I swear some days I don't breathe at all because I'm too busy crossing my fingers that he won't fall.

Yesterday morning, when we went downstairs to get the mail, I turned my back on him for one second. Seriously, one second. I put the key in the mailbox and heard his maraca land on the ground. I spun around just in time to see him fall to his knees. He landed on the cement, but he was fine. No blood. No crying. Great. Crisis averted.

Before I could get over to him to pick him up off the ground, though, he lost his balance. Still on his knees, he did a slow motion face plant onto the concrete. Cue screams.



A skinned chin. Definitely worse than skinned knees. Ouch. Poor Mase.