I had redone the stickers a few times, but changed the letters back to the originals for old-time's sake.
Here is David when his helmet was brand new vs. the very end (16 weeks difference):
It's hard to believe how TINY he was when he first got it. So precious!
We went last Friday to get him all measured for his hew helmet. My mother-in-law, Julie came with us to see what we do at his appointments.
In the waiting room
Playing like a big boy
I think getting measured is possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. They put this little bonnet on him and he looks {absolutely} adorable. I mean, c'mon, look at this picture:
And this one:
I know what you're thinking. Please don't covet my baby. :)
After the bonnet is secured, it's time for the manual measurements. This is where Darren (aka The Helmet Guy) measures a few different angle of his head. Like so:
And so:
After the manual measurements, he gets the laser measurements. THIS is why I really like StarCranial. Rather than old-fashioned cast molds (Believe it or not, they still do those on babies!), or even hand-held scanners, he lies in this little box for in less than 2 seconds, and instantly, we get a perfect 3D computer image of the Big Man's head.
Here is the star-scanner:
And here he is getting scanned:
We went home for the weekend, came back on Tuesday, and voila! A new hat!
Complete with fancy houdini-proof baby-proof Velcro:
And 26 holes!!! Our old one had 10...We live in Texas- summer is coming...the more ventilation, the better!:
Speaking of the holes, I love how his naturally-dries-straight-on-end hair can't even be tamed by a helmet:
Daniel, David and I hung out in the new StarCranial office while Darren heated, cut, and molded the helmet to make it a perfect fit. I emphasize new office because if you knew what the old office was, you would understand the lovely feeling I have when I type that word "new."
You see, the old one was quite literally a medicine closet at University Hospital. I mean it. A closet. No windows. Just a door, tile floors, painted cinder-block wall, and a tiny elevator window where they used to drop off and pick up medicines. There was a desk, the scanner, two waiting chairs and a very tiny space that perfectly fit my double stroller. Other than that, there was no room. I used to make sure every little crumb Daniel may have dropped was picked up because it would have made the space feel cluttered merely by it's minuscule presence.
Daniel now loves going to "football helmet appointments," mostly because of the freedom he has to run around and consume their jar full of lollipops. But I'd be forgetting the most important part of Daniel's visit, which would be the toy he so proudly and excitedly announced, Scrambler from Bob the Builder.
And of course, he tried to ride him.
I love that boy...
We came home. I had one mission: to get David's helmet ready for his keepsake box. I cleaned it out one last time, carefully put some clear nail-polish over the stickers to help them stay on for the long-haul, and choked up as I placed it next to his coming-home outfit and the outfit he had his surgery in.
Good bye hat number one. You've been with us through some of the most precious times of our lives. Your presence reminded me daily of the miracle who you were boldly protecting and gently molding. You brought us lots of looks and comments: funny, offensive and caring alike. I'll always hold you dear, much like I did when my little boy laid his precious head inside of you. Thanks for being a good hat. For that, we'll keep you.
