Look at them Snappers


Poor, poor Baby Jane. In just the last 72 hours Jane has fallen off the kitchen table (cut above her right eye), walked behind an elliptical while in motion (clocked above the right ear), and Dean, our three year old, gave her a haircut.

I once heard a doctor say that if he sees a one year old without at least one bump on his head, he thinks there’s something wrong developmentally. Bumps and bruises are part and parcel of being a healthy one year old.

You see, one year olds like to test the slipperiness of feetie pajamas whilst on table tops. They finally put two and two together and discover how to push around the kitchen chair until voila, the world is their oyster! They negotiate turns at neck breaking speeds because, after all, the ground is only about 9 inches away from their diaper.

And, of course, all of these daredevil shenanigans lead to goose eggs, Derma-Bond, and cold compresses. We had a check-up at the doctor’s this week and no one mentioned CPS, so I figure this is normal “wear and tear.” But more than I fear the CPS making the wrong assumptions about my parenting, I fear one day Jane will have a conversation with her future husband that will go something like this:

He’ll say something about how nervous he is about their impending baby’s overall health–will he be athletic, will he be smart, will he struggle socially? And Jane will comfortingly respond, “Honey, it’s okay. My genes are actually a lot smarter than I represent! I figure my IQ would be at least 20 points higher if I hadn’t suffered all those injuries to the head as a one year old. Trust me! My eggs are smarter than I lead you to believe.

Poor, poor Jane…Maybe I could get one of those little baby helmets you see around. I don’t think our doctor would prescribe one just to avoid bumps and spills, but if he took a good look at Dean’s handiwork as a beautician, he just might agree the insurance should pick up the tab.

On a happy side note, Jane learned how to snap this week. Really, truly snap her teeny tiny fingers. Click-click-clicking around the house like a beatnik. Both hands too. (Well, if that’s not assurance she’s still all there…)

Yes, she is one cool cat Daddy-O. Hmmmm…perhaps even cool enough to pull of her new coif. Ya…sending out the vibe. I like it. Before I know it, her new do’ will be all the rage at play-group.

Can you dig it?


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