There's first foods.
First swing ride.
First pair of sunglasses.
Even a first "girlfriend".
Andrew's had a few firsts recently too. Like his first bike helmet, which he likes to wear for everything except riding his bike.
First time having a popsicle with a buddy.
And most recently, his first time scaring me so badly that I felt dizzy with adrenaline after the crisis was over.
That is a picture of the shoulder of my pyjamas stained with blood after Andrew had a bad accident this morning. He took his little chair to the safety gate blocking our basement in order to look at the cat that had run down there in an attempt to escape, hoisted himself up on the top bar, and then proceeded to flip himself over the gate, landing on the ground with a face plant. Poor kid earned himself a bloody nose (and hence my messy shirt), and a pretty big goose egg on the forehead. After some crying and lots of hugs (and more than a few blood-soaked Kleenexes), Andrew was back to his usual self in no time. I, however, did not feel like myself afterwards. I think I went into mild shock from the adrenaline after it was all over. Even now, 12 hours later, I keep reliving that moment where I peeked around the corner from the kitchen just in time to see his body tip over the gate, that terrible thud, and even the heartbeat of total silence before he started screaming. I'm grateful that things weren't worse, but this was a really hard reminder that I can't always protect him from things.
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