As anyone who has been around a 3yo lately knows, one of the many things they are (some sweet, some not) is clumsy. I mean, come on. Toddlers are by and large just coming into their own with body control and motor skills gross and fine, but the toddler who is also a preschooler who also no longer naps and has recently potty trained? Why don’t we just go ahead and say goodnight to physical grace, shall we?
As the parent of a current above described, I am finding myself watching my 3yo, who attempts to do ALL the Things (just like his big brother and big sister), with slightly held breath (I know – opposite of what I said about breath a couple weeks ago – it’s life). But seriously. We still crash and burn so often, I just never know when the next bump is going to come which turns all moments of coming and going and doing potential hazards.
Just walking through our dining room this weekend resulted in a 3-inch line imprinting itself on Lincoln’s forehead after he fell into our china hutch. Just coming to give me a hug before Trumy’s nap yesterday resulted in a bumped noggin for LT and a sore cheekbone for me. And just trying to climb up the stairs (in the semi-dark, mind you) to hang out with Sister while I put TJ down for nap this afternoon resulted in this crazy big goose egg from the handrail that he didn’t seem coming and caused him to fall back down two steps to boot.
And have I mentioned that the kid hates ice packs and comfort of any kind when he bumps? That makes it extra challenging to know what to do for him to ease the pain (not to mention lessen the severity of the marks these bumps leave in their wake).
But as with just about anything, the lesson for the big person comes from the tenacity of the small person.
Lincoln may get super upset. He may burst into tears and scream NO! at me when I try to hug or console him. He may choose to soothe with a book or by hugging the baby or just taking some space for himself. And all of that is OK. What matters is that he is processing the pain (and still gets to see that I am there for him, should he ever want or need me) and that each one of these multitudinous incidents does not deter him from life. I mean, Right? He just keeps running and playing no matter how many times he takes one to the face.
Get knocked down seven times? Get back up eight. That is life with a kiddo in this stage and it is a beautiful message, even though the bruises are less than so.