Watch out world! Munchie is officially WALKING!

For months and months, people have looked at me like I’m a psychopath when I would say that I couldn’t wait for Munchie to start walking. They would say things like, “Oh, you don’t want him to walk yet… he will be into everything!” and “Once he walks, you won’t ever get a chance to sit down again!”

Um… okay? First of all… he crawls like a freaking speed demon. Like, seriously… let’s have our babies race. Second, he already stands up, reaches around, and smashes everything he can find, pulls everything out of any cabinet, drawer, shelf that he can reach, etc. Just exactly how will my child’s ability to walk make this worse for me?

And finally… my kid just turned one and weighs a very solid 30 lbs (give or take a pound for giant poos). How much did your kid weigh when they were his age? Any “extra” work I have to do must be far easier than lugging him around in my arms.

Needless to day, despite all the crazy people telling me that walking was full of trouble… I wanted… no, wait… I NEEDED Munchie to walk (or at least my back did).

That brings us to July 11, the day our Munchie Moo took off. He had taken a few steps here and there, but (of course, while Daddy was at the office) he stood up with a giant stuffed Mickey Mouse and just started walking! I was on the couch, trying not to express any shred of excitement, while slowly reaching for my phone. (We all know if a child senses your excitement or sees your grab the camera, they will most certainly turn into a blob of jelly and refuse to ever complete -insert task here- again.) I stealthily hit record and caught a few solid seconds of walking. YIPPIE!

Since that moment, he has not stopped cruising around… unless, of course, we ask him to show someone how he can walk around. (Oh, you want me to perform? No gracias. But, look how awesome I am at crawling around!)

Is a walking baby more stressful than a crawling baby? In our house, there isn’t much of a difference… but when we go somewhere… sitting in a stroller, shopping cart, etc becomes a battle. All this kid wants to do is walk around… but not with shoes on. Oh, no sir/ma’am.

The fact that shoes seem to be his kryptonite may be related to the fact that his shoes are too big. (Grandmas gasp and immediately pick up their phones to call me and offer to buy shoes that fit… well, put your phones down and let me explain.) His shoes are too long… but they fit his chunky little feet height and width wise. Shoes that fit in length, flip flops included, don’t go around his foot. So, our choices become… shoes that are too big… or no shoes at all.

Personally, I hate shoes and have no issue with Munchie walking around barefoot… but shoes do seem to serve a purpose… oh, yes… shoes are a fabulous way to slow Munchie down. (HUZZAH!)

We were a bit apprehensive about the woman wielding a pair of shears, making her way toward the red fire engine chair that Munchie was driving to his first haircut. Frozen was playing on multiple screens, a table of toy trains sat behind him, and brightly colored furniture was placed in an inviting fashion. Other tiny customers were excited about the new fashionable hair styles they were rocking (or would soon be rocking, one small guest convinced his short hair was about to become long and curly… Sorry buddy… These stylists are skilled, but this ain’t “Hairy” freaking Potter) and frolicked about the establishment.
Munchie, not knowing what to expect, looked to a less than certain Mommy and Daddy. Additional audience members include Gram, Aunt Lizzie, and Uncle Austen. Thankfully, the rest of our audience reassured our Munchie, as he was meet with exaggerated smiles, clapping, and cheers.

Miss Christine started carefully (and patiently) snipping away curls, gently placing them on the counter for our commemorative keepsake bag (complete with photo and a memory card to document the milestone). I held my breath during the first snip, but then chilled and started cheering… And feeding Munchie animal crackers to distract him. Daddy, on the other hand, mustered up a reassuring smile… But I’m pretty sure it was a smooth disguise for the panic attack he was having.
An overwhelming number of pictures were taken, by what can only be described as a paparazzi mob, to document the experience.
A pile of hair collected in the back of the tiny red fire engine, a glob of grape scented hair goop was rubbed through Munchie’s freshly cut hair, and an adorable Mohawk started to form upon the top of his head.
The haircut was a success, everyone survived, and now that everything is evened up, we are going to start growing Munchie’s mane or to see what kind of curls and chaos emerge. Will he have long locks, a curly blonde fro, or a short spikes? While I don’t know what the future holds for our little rockstar’s hair… I know he will always be handsome in my eyes.