The Cheesedoodle is an active child. He’s been crawling for several months, and is determined that if he is awake (and sometimes when he’s not) he should be in continuous motion. Two weeks ago he tried to crawl from my lap back into his high chair, over the detachable tray. It detached. He plunged head first to my tile floor and had a bruised up face for two days. I took the picture to the left and titled it “The first rule of fight club is don’t talk about fight club.”
On Friday we were all playing outside. I was doing a plant experiment and the mackerdoodle was helping me. Before I began the actual re-potting, I looked around and spotted the cheesedoodle playing with a small purple football on the grass at least fifteen feet from the porch stairs. By the time I had the hole dug and the plant dangling over the prepared soil, I looked up and my son was on my porch, smiling at me. As I watched, he launched himself off the porch and tumbled down, scraping his head against the concrete as he went. It was the SAME SIDE OF HIS HEAD!
I didn’t take a picture this time, because, frankly, I’m worried that two photographs of head injuries within two weeks would warrant a visitation by child services.
I hate to keep saying this. He’s going to get a complex. But the mackerdoodle didn’t do these sorts of things! At fourteen months, just after she had started walking, she walked off the sidewalk at school and hurt her eye, but other than that it’s been the typical scraped knees and bumped elbows with her (doesn’t she look little?).
After walking off the sidewalk, the mackerdoodle wouldn’t go near the edge of any sidewalk for MONTHS.
After falling of the porch, the Cheesedoodle fell off again – into four inches of pine straw this time. He laughed.
I think I have a lot to learn about boys.