Fearless

Connor respects stairs. We usually don't even have to put the gate across the steps upstairs when we are in the family room. If he goes over to the steps it usually means he needs something he forgot in the kitchen, most likely his lovey "monkey." He'll motion to you, tell you in toddlerease what he needs and wait patiently there for you to return with whatever it is he needed. "Tank ooo."

Last night we watched him race over to the bottom of the stairs and I was hot on heels, but not soon enough to catch him as he fell face first from the bottom step.

The Parental Panic Pause.

Is he hurt? Hold your breath. Did he knock the wind out of himself? Can he breathe? Is he hurt? Don't be hurt, don't be hurt. Don't react. BREATHE.

That boy rolled over and erupted into a pile of giggles, stood up monkey in hand, climbed the step, turned, looked high into the air and fell forward, laughing all the way into my arms. He wanted to do it again and again and again and while laughing along with him was definitely the best decision, it was seriously hysterical. No care in the world, not a fear, not a second thought about what might happen to him. Pushing for that rush of adrenaline. At 18 months old.

This is what it's like isn't it? I don't just have a boy. I have a daredevil. I may never sleep solidly again.

2 comments:

  1. Kelly7:50 PM

    I swear our Connor's sound so much alike!!!

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  2. Teddy attempted to find out the true use of a "ladder back chair" two nights ago. I caught him just before the first foot was on the first rung. I don't remember needing this constant vigilance with Katherine.

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