"It's okay, I landed on my head."
Abbie whines about lots of things: A toy just out of reach, getting stuck while crawling under the table, dog food just out of reach. Yet she rarely whines about her poor walking abilities. Abbie can walk in the same sense that NBC’s programming can entertain: It does the job, just not very well. Abbie can walk just fine for a few steps, but she inevitably falls. I now have a greater appreciation for Maggie Simpson’s propensity for falling, except that Maggie will fall down while standing still or after tripping over her dress, but Abbie usually falls only while trying to walk because she doesn’t quite move her fete in hte prepor odrer.
Left. Right. Left.RightLefRigh…Thunk.
She doesn’t always fall because she moves her feet wrong; an uneven ground can cause a fall, too. Our backyard has a crater in it. It’s not a very big crater, maybe 4-inches deep and a foot in diameter, but it’s big enough to throw her to the ground every time she steps in it, and since it’s right in front of the rock bed she loves to play in, she steps in it a lot. Once she sets a foot in it, she inevitably falls, just like your IQ inevitably falls once you start watching “Hogan Knows Best.” The random ebbs and flows in the lawn’s altitude can cause falls as well, along with hazardous objects indiscriminately scattered about the ground like sticks, drain spouts, and dogs.
A small hill in the backyard also triggers falls. She loves climbing this hill, possibly to practice her hiking abilities so she can show off on the castle at the mall playground. Much like at the castle, she can go up the hill without much problem; it’s the part where she has to come back down the hill that sends her flying, and with a lot more velocity than a fall on flat ground. I try to offer my hand to her when I see her in a precarious location like the downside of a hill; sometimes she takes it and often falls anyway, and sometimes she refuses my hand, boldly showing her independence seconds before boldly planting her face in the ground. She’s tough, though, rising right back to her feet, thumbing her nose at the ground that insists on attracting her, and continuing to walk. Then she usually falls again after a few more steps, repeating the cycle.
Just in case anyone doesn’t believe that she falls a lot, she has the marks to prove it. I need to defend myself, first; I’m no Father of the Year here, but I’m not Bobby Brown, either. I don’t just watch her with one ear on Cubs game while she wails following yet another painful header, amassing a collection of scars that will mar her for life. She falls, looks vaguely annoyed that she stopped moving forward, picks herself up, continues walking, and I go back to listening to Todd Walker ground into a double play. She only cries when she falls on something hard. Skinning an appendage can also warrant tears, but she has a scraped knee right now that generated not so much as a sniffle when she hit the pavement. To show how tough she can be, she fell down in the grass so much last night that the side of her face looked like we’d given her a cheese grater to chew on, and she never complained once. This resounding toughness is from the same girl who has a meltdown when shut out of the bathroom.
Left. Right. Left.RightLefRigh…Thunk.
She doesn’t always fall because she moves her feet wrong; an uneven ground can cause a fall, too. Our backyard has a crater in it. It’s not a very big crater, maybe 4-inches deep and a foot in diameter, but it’s big enough to throw her to the ground every time she steps in it, and since it’s right in front of the rock bed she loves to play in, she steps in it a lot. Once she sets a foot in it, she inevitably falls, just like your IQ inevitably falls once you start watching “Hogan Knows Best.” The random ebbs and flows in the lawn’s altitude can cause falls as well, along with hazardous objects indiscriminately scattered about the ground like sticks, drain spouts, and dogs.
A small hill in the backyard also triggers falls. She loves climbing this hill, possibly to practice her hiking abilities so she can show off on the castle at the mall playground. Much like at the castle, she can go up the hill without much problem; it’s the part where she has to come back down the hill that sends her flying, and with a lot more velocity than a fall on flat ground. I try to offer my hand to her when I see her in a precarious location like the downside of a hill; sometimes she takes it and often falls anyway, and sometimes she refuses my hand, boldly showing her independence seconds before boldly planting her face in the ground. She’s tough, though, rising right back to her feet, thumbing her nose at the ground that insists on attracting her, and continuing to walk. Then she usually falls again after a few more steps, repeating the cycle.
Just in case anyone doesn’t believe that she falls a lot, she has the marks to prove it. I need to defend myself, first; I’m no Father of the Year here, but I’m not Bobby Brown, either. I don’t just watch her with one ear on Cubs game while she wails following yet another painful header, amassing a collection of scars that will mar her for life. She falls, looks vaguely annoyed that she stopped moving forward, picks herself up, continues walking, and I go back to listening to Todd Walker ground into a double play. She only cries when she falls on something hard. Skinning an appendage can also warrant tears, but she has a scraped knee right now that generated not so much as a sniffle when she hit the pavement. To show how tough she can be, she fell down in the grass so much last night that the side of her face looked like we’d given her a cheese grater to chew on, and she never complained once. This resounding toughness is from the same girl who has a meltdown when shut out of the bathroom.
posted by Matt at
9:52 PM
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