As noted by Phx on the video post of my daughter doing a face-plant off of a slide, she's a tough cookie.
And I admire the heck out of her.
At the park again the other day, she found herself between a couple of "big" kids who were jumping on one of those bouncing bridges that usually connect two slides or ladders or poles to slide down. So, while wobbling between the kids, trying to get her own little legs to lift off, she falls down, this time smacking her face on a metal rail. Ouch.
Of course she cried, but even as I reached to pick her up, she was clamouring (rather indignantly) for me to put her back down so that she could master that stupid bridge.
Even after the other kids left, she kept going back to it and jumping, very purposefully - as if to say, you're not the boss of me.
Yesterday, I made the mistake of leaving the ladder to my son's bunk bed up in their room while I walked out to grab the laundry. Of course, within a minute of my leaving, she was climbing it and, according to Alex (and the loud scream that came from their room) - she fell from the top. I panicked, tried to look her over for anything broken, bleeding, bruised...nothing. And then I realized she wasn't screaming or crying out of pain, but out of frustration. She wasn't begging for Mama, she was yelling "Ladda!" and pointing. Not because she was telling me what happened, but because she wanted to get back at it.
Of course, I moved the ladder this time, brought it out to the kitchen with me, leaned it against a wall while I went back to trying to switch over the laundry. Two seconds later - CRASH. She had followed me and managed to climb up it and fallen backwards - again, this time, taking the ladder with her.
And again, she had no visible marks, nothing wrong, just bruised pride.
Unlike her brother who was born with apparently more common sense (though, he's also the one who found poo to be an source of entertainment, so I guess it's a draw), who approaches everything with an touch of caution, and avoids things completely if they've hurt him in the past, Lila is like a steamroller. Don't get in her way.
Makes me want to bubble wrap her whole world to keep her safe.
And I admire the heck out of her.
At the park again the other day, she found herself between a couple of "big" kids who were jumping on one of those bouncing bridges that usually connect two slides or ladders or poles to slide down. So, while wobbling between the kids, trying to get her own little legs to lift off, she falls down, this time smacking her face on a metal rail. Ouch.
Of course she cried, but even as I reached to pick her up, she was clamouring (rather indignantly) for me to put her back down so that she could master that stupid bridge.
Even after the other kids left, she kept going back to it and jumping, very purposefully - as if to say, you're not the boss of me.
Yesterday, I made the mistake of leaving the ladder to my son's bunk bed up in their room while I walked out to grab the laundry. Of course, within a minute of my leaving, she was climbing it and, according to Alex (and the loud scream that came from their room) - she fell from the top. I panicked, tried to look her over for anything broken, bleeding, bruised...nothing. And then I realized she wasn't screaming or crying out of pain, but out of frustration. She wasn't begging for Mama, she was yelling "Ladda!" and pointing. Not because she was telling me what happened, but because she wanted to get back at it.
Of course, I moved the ladder this time, brought it out to the kitchen with me, leaned it against a wall while I went back to trying to switch over the laundry. Two seconds later - CRASH. She had followed me and managed to climb up it and fallen backwards - again, this time, taking the ladder with her.
And again, she had no visible marks, nothing wrong, just bruised pride.
Unlike her brother who was born with apparently more common sense (though, he's also the one who found poo to be an source of entertainment, so I guess it's a draw), who approaches everything with an touch of caution, and avoids things completely if they've hurt him in the past, Lila is like a steamroller. Don't get in her way.
Makes me want to bubble wrap her whole world to keep her safe.
Labels: Kids, Lila, Motherhood
3 Comments:
I remember Tessa being the same way. She used to scale floor to ceiling bookshelves and try to jump off.
I have yet t meet a cautious toddler girl. I am sure they exist, but all the ones I know are daredevils.
Wow... Lily isn't QUITE that much of a climber yet (whew!) but she did stand up on our desk chair the other day (even though it was pushed in completely under/against the desk) and then tipped the chair back, face planting with the chair back under her. Ow. She scared herself, but she keeps climbing the same chair. Maybe it's because it's the one I'm always trying to sneak in to unnoticed.
I don't remember being a real tough toddler - and I know I was a chicken as a little kid. I guess that's why I sort of admire the determination in Lila, it's something I'd like to have for myself.
She's been climbing for a while now - everything. Very annoying. We've already had to move her to her own toddler bed, because she just refused to stay in her crib. (Which is what led to Alex getting his official big boy bed, and thus the ladder that she is now attempting to climb...she brought this on herself...)
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