What Little Boys Are Made Of: Firsts, Seconds, and Thirds

Yesterday was the first day of school -- such a magical day. And it was magical on many levels. After school I went to pick Mason up from school, and he was in such a great mood that the afternoon flew by. Maybe because it was preceded by a weekend of poop to the nth degree, but a welcome break from wiping butts and a smiling baby? I couldn't have asked for anything more!

After Daddy came home from work and realized his phone was still there, we headed out to pick it up and catch some Yogi Castle as a First Day of School Tradition. By the way, aren't traditions the best part of parenting? I love coming up with random holidays to celebrate. My favorite so far? Mason 2.0 Day, the day of his surgery, which happens to be his cousin Avery's birthday. Do you think she'll mind sharing the day with him? Anyway, I digress.

We enjoyed some fabulous, low fat yogurt and headed over to the Verizon store where Mason ran around like a rabid animal because all the 50+ customers laughed at his show-offs. We packed him up into the car and came home. Of course, this day had just been too perfect, so something had to happen to screw it up.
When we took his shoes off for bath, he refused to walk, sometimes even stand on it. I me re-fused. Screamed. Yelled. Pointed to his bed. I was stumped. I desperately tried to think of a fall, a trip, heck, a cry or even whine that might have alerted me to an injury -- nothing.

I put him to bed but my mind was working on overload. Of course, after one broken leg already, the doctor was going to think I was an unfit parent. Probably call CPS on my butt. C looked at me like I was crazy, but at one point we were both on the line with separate with the same doctor's office listening to the same answering service. I think crazy runs in our marriage. Or crazy is a direct result of having a kid like ours.

I slept ok, but as soon as my alarm went off I wondered about the foot. Would he walk? Would my awesome first day of school technique of scaring the bejesus out of my students all be for naught because they'd have a substitute today? Sigh.

To make a long, neurotic story much shorter and sane, the foot was fine. Whether it was just a stub or my saint of a mother praying all night, we'll never know, but either way we are happy. Today was not as good of a day - he was kind of a crank pot after the walk tonight, and he threw hotdog pieces on the floor, but I was so thankful that he was walking perfectly fine that I even let him jump up and down on the naughty chair, which probably isn't a good training method in the long run.

Here are some photos of our walk that lasted all of 3 and a half minutes. He was just too tired after walking with daddy and really needed some downtime; instead, we came inside and watched some of Brobee's Birthday on Yo Gabba Gabba.