A few days before Christmas, I let Griffin do laps
up and down the hallway to burn off some energy.
He tripped into his room and split his eyebrow open
on his loft bed post.
In 5 years, that was the first moment my heart plummeted into my stomach.
Luckily my mother hadn't moved to Texas yet.
She came right over to stay with Jasper (who was already down for the night) while we
took a trip to the ER.
Griffin lived up to his name and was a total Rockstar while enduring the shots (which went deep into the open wound) and stitches.
It has been a few weeks since the final butterfly strips fell off.
I've got to admit.
I was freaked out about "MY BABY'S BEAUTIFUL FACE"!!
But nothing has changed.
He's just as handsome.
If not, more so now.
I got a glimpse of what he is like under pressure.
When he knew that something had gone horribly wrong, he was uncontrollable.
Then I started counting.
So did he.
By #4, he was calmly ticking off numbers without even a whimper.
My son amazes me.
So here he is.
Griffin Rockstar Allen.