Rough & TUMBLE

B did a face plant yesterday at daycare. Literally, he fell on his face on the hard top of the playground. He's got a brutal raspberry all the way down his nose, plus an egg on his forehead, and he had a bloody nose when it happened, too. But my little ruffian is really pretty unfazed by the whole thing. Occasionally, he'll hit the skin of his nose with his hand or something and remember it's sore and look at me kind of like, "Oh, ow." But on the whole, he clearly doesn't mind the falling down.

And of course, I know this is just the first (and probably mildest) of many, many injuries he's likely to endure. By B's age, my youngest brother had already had stitches once. And Be reminds me of him, as a toddler - same sturdy build, same blonde hair, same contagious smile, and same need for speed. It didn't really freak me out the way I thought it would, seeing his little face all scraped up. Maybe it's because I have three brothers and spent two years teaching a bunch of hellion boys, so I guess I kind of knew what I was getting into. But really, so far, it's more a feeling of awe that I have, that he's growing up so fast. (Talk to me after his next injury - I'm sure my facade of coolness and calm will have vanished.)

But seriously, little boys get cuts and scrapes. This is not to say that little girls don't - they certainly do. But looking back on myself and my four siblings, it does seem the boys got to a different level, with their cuts and scrapes. So, what this face plant indicates, I think, is that my baby has officially become a little boy.