Noah has spent what is to me an uncanny amount of time plummeting to the ground recently. First it was 2 weeks ago, when with his arms behind his back, he got his feet tied up in one another and caught himself with his nose and a big part of his forehead. The scabs are off now, but the little pink fresh skin is still glowing under his nose, and I hope and pray that it's not a permanent mark. I guess it could be like some kind of dueling scar -- from dueling with the sidewalk.
But he's taken his plummeting antics into the bedroom recently. We moved him from his crib to a bed last summer when he began doing some crazy gymnastics along the top of the crib rail. His new bed used to be his uncles, and is a nice platform trundlebed that provides great storage where the trundle bed would be, and a not-very-long drop to the ground... but it is still enough. We put up rails, but got brave a few weeks ago and pulled them off, which made the bed a great place for reading books and playing with toys and cuddling with his Mama while he got ready to go to sleep.
Two nights in the last week, though, I awoke halfway down the hall in mid-stride to the sound of Noah shrieking in terror from the floor next to his bed. No injury -- just the fear of a little boy who didn't mind the falling, just that sudden stop at the end. At 4:00 in the morning, I reinstalled the side rails on his bed. I guess he's not completely grown up after all.
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