How did we parents ever survive childhood? Not ours. Our kids.
The little Queen herself was here today. She is a bit of a whirling dirvish and only knows stop and run like hell. She runs full speed and head dives in to the recliners. Sits up and jabbers about something very important. And gets down and off she goes again. So I sat on the floor imploring her to pay a minute (my-noot) bit of attention to old Mamo. I turn my head from her sitting at my right, regally propped in the chair, to her mother on my left and at the same time hear a “CRACK” “SMACK” and before that sound was over and registered in my head her mother (6 1/2 months pregnant) was up like a shot. I turn to my right getting up, I do have some experience in noise recognition/mother instinct/reaction time. I got to her before Mommy did. Scooped her up off of her face (from my hard wood floor) and deposit her in to Mommy’s arms before the first cry can come out. Of me or her mommy.
She pointed out the spot on her face that hurt, her hand that hurt, and her mother’s and my hearts that were bruised.
I am glad my heart is so strong. She is going to test it but good. Just a few days ago she was running through Granny’s house, the only speed she knows: GO. Stepped on a toy and fell face first in to the chair.
I can’t take this.
I remember once when Brittany was 2 she fell backwards and hit her head on a wooden arm of a couch. She froze. I thought she was paralyzed. As soon as I could stop shaking and breathe again I took that furniture out of the house that night. The next day went and got all fabric and cushioned couches. No ‘corners’ that would do damage. Low to the floor for when she would surely jump or roll off.
I asked Brittany tonight if we could buy the Queen a rubber or padded suit. Size 4T if you have one please.