You Shoulda Seen the Other Little Guy

No, Wilder didn't actually get into a daycare brawl with a bunch of other wee-sized toughs. But it looks that way, doesn't it?

Clearly, it's been a tough week. I had no sooner posted the other day about our three virus-free weeks than I walked into the next room to a runny nose (OK, a few hours might have passed, but for the sake of drama, we'll say that nose spontaneously started flowing the second I clicked "publish:). By Sunday, we were in full-on head cold mode and, though it's now made its way through both Jerry and I and we're much better, Wilder is still somewhat puny because of it.

Now about that picture: The bruise under the right eye -- we have no idea where that came from. He either rammed his face up against something or the cold has settled there. I tend to think it's the latter, but we can't discount the former, for Wilder is pretty much a walking definition of "accident prone" these days. I can see why he wants to move around as if he's got 20 years of walking under his belt (I guess I would too if I'd discovered a full range of motion was possible after months of relying on others to move you from point A to point B), I just have to cringe every time I see it. He moves with zero fear and wild abandon. Case in point? The left eye. Unpredictable moves aren't reserved for dry surfaces. He's like a slippery little eel in the tub, which is where he fell last night, lurching around like a drunken misfit and glancing his left upper eye socket against the side of the tub, promptly splitting it open.

Of course, we had his first official portraits scheduled for this afternoon, at the lake with beautiful crystal clear blue skies and cooler temps. A photographer at work has even donated his services. But we can't very well capture our boy's cuteness for all time when he looks like Baby Pugilist, so we'll have to reschedule.

Oh well, just one more little blip in a life that's sure to be full of adventure, bumps, bruises and scratches. He is, after all, a little boy. This is but the very beginning (cue ominous music).

Love to all,
K,J&W

ps. I should add that despite the forlorn expression in the photo, he's pretty much his usual self, laughing at and tormenting the devil out of kitty and throwing toys around the room. All is well in Wilder's world.