I promised myself that I would become better at blogging as Brecken became more independent. Yeah right. He can't even crawl yet, but somehow he still manages to scoot backwards, grab a hold of whatever he can and either naw it until it no longer functions or pull on it until it snaps in two.
Even though we haven't been blogging we are alive and well...sorta. Pictures are always great evidence for the "parentals" to show that we still have managed to keep Brecken alive, even though our attempts to keep household plants living has failed dramatically.
Today I learned why there are those crazy straps in the stroller that are "supposably" there to hold the baby in...
Lately, Brecken has been in a crabby mood. Crabby may be an understatement, so try to imagine a teenage girl, no sleep, "that-time-of-the month," and finding out that her sister ruined her favorite shirt that she was planning on wearing for freaking hot date. Yeah, that type of mood is what have seemed to have taken over Little B's life (in his defense he is teething). Anyway, back to the story.
Soooo, as any good parent would do I saddled him up with his favorite toy and loaded him in his stroller to go for a walk. Ladedada, I grabbed my keys from the car, flipped his stroller around and proceeded down the driveway. As I turned onto the sidewalk I hit a rock. Disclaimer: Not an unusual occurance to hit a large rock on the sidewalk in our subdivision. Not thinking much about it I tried to pop my stroller over the rock.
Then came the sound. The sound that every parent (I am assuming) hates. As I looked around the front of the stroller there was no rock. Nope just little B face down on the sidewalk. He had had slipped underneath the tray on his seat, and had fallen face first on the side and I with all my great wisdom had somehow run over my own child (not all the way) with HIS stroller.
He was crying, I was crying. Blood was coming out of his nose, tears were flying every which way. The worst part of the whole three second ordeal is that as I turned around to run to the house I realized that I had an audience.
Next door a group of guys were putting in a sprinkler system and had witnessed the whole event...hopefully not the running over part. Not a word came out of their mouths.
Silence. Silence. Sprinkler turning on. Silence. Dog bark. Silence.
I, with my screaming baby in tow did the the walk of shame back to my house.
When the tears stopped, and the blood dried his wounds turned out not to be that bad. My ego as a parent...well, lets just say I won't be testing out his acrobatic skills for awhile ;)
Here is evidence that he was perfectly healthy yesterday...
His battle scar...