There are some firsts that are universally celebrated by parents. The first time the baby sleeps through the night, the first word, the first step are all received with much hand clapping and joy.
We missed many of these milestones with Punk because she was already a year old when she came to us. Still, we were ecstatic with the milestones we did get to experience. The first time Punk gave me a hug and told me she loved me were truly sweet and special moments.
A couple of weeks ago, we experienced another first with much fanfare. Punk pooped in the potty!!! She had been resisting vigorously and having her go to the poop in the potty without any prompting was especially gratifying. So much so that D, hilariously, took a photo. I will spare you the picture.
Then, there are firsts that aren’t so joyful. Like the time Punk threw a full-on no holds barred temper tantrum in middle of Sear’s. Or her first pneumonia was not fun at all. Scary even.
And that brings us to another first that I am not happy about. On Saturday, while I was busy cooking and D was busy with something else, Punk managed to put on her shoes, open the storm door and by the time we realized the house was awfully quiet…
This is where D found her. At the end of our drive way, on her tricycle, heading away from the house.
Needless to say we will not be leaving the front door open with just the storm door, which by the way was locked. Unfortunately, it has gotten loose over time and is apparently easy to unlock by a clever toddler. Again, needless to say the storm door will be replaced shortly.