Learn to Fall Before You Run

First, a child learns to stand. He must hold on to stable object at first like a piece of furniture. Eventually, he pulls his hands away, and begins to stand unassisted. As his wobbly legs gain confidence, he dares to lift his legs for his first steps. At first, he falls with every step, but through tenacity he maintains his balance long enough to take one step, then strings together two steps, and finally several steps. Before you know it, he’s walking everywhere, determined to move as quickly and efficiently as possible.

That’s the point we’re at now. It’s amazing to watch. Their speed amazes me. Their resolve amazes me. Most of all, the fact that they don’t seriously injure themselves more often amazes me. They have the confidence to walk throughout the house, but lack the skill to adjust for unforeseen obstacles, and with three young children in the house, our floors are everlastingly littered with unforeseen obstacles. They fall frequently, and usually they just rise back up to their feet unscathed. Sometimes they’ll land on an errant block, and need a little love. Very rarely do they hit something that leaves a mark, but when they do, it’s uglier than an American Idol open audition.

Tory took his most recent major tumble on Saturday. I thought it was no big deal at first since he takes similar tumbles several times daily. He was in the living room, walking from toy to toy, stumbled, and crashed headfirst into the floor, this time whacking the IncrediBlock on the way down. Even though I heard a loud thud when he hit the floor followed by crying, I wasn’t concerned. We have many hollow plastic toys that sound debilitating upon impact, especially when it’s a hollow head impacting them, and when the boys experience a hint of pain, they cry like, well, babies. We picked him up, gave him the standard love, and when he didn’t calm down quickly I thought he might have hit his head harder than I thought.

The next morning I saw how hard he hit his head. He developed a silver dollar sized bruise on his forehead in a shade of purple so deep it’s rarely seen outside of Play-Doh. I shrugged, wished I had done more at the time, and moved on, knowing another child might fall at any second. Tory’s great-grandmother, who watched him fall right in front of her, was not as forgiving of herself. Fortunately, they’re three hours apart again, so she doesn’t have to know how painful his forehead looks.

Ian’s tumble came yesterday, and it was worse. I was loading the dishwasher as I normally do for 16 hours everyday. Ian toddled up to the dishwasher like he and/or his brother does every time the door opens. This time Abbie left Walter, her horse head on a stick, stretched across the kitchen floor about a foot from the dishwasher. Ian, in his zeal to remove flatware and hopefully find residual food, toddled at top speed, ignoring Walter. When his foot hit Walter’s stick, he fell forward at max toddler speed, striking face-first on the edge of the open door as I loaded a plate. I immediately knew this was bad because the impact sounded like Tory hitting the IncrediBlock, except the dishwasher door is heavily insulated with little to resonate.

I immediately picked him up and saw an inch long cut next to his eye. Ellie took him and worked her mother’s magic on him, calming him to the point where he’d at least open his eyes so we could see they were fine. I knew he’d be okay but probably cranky for the rest of the night, which he was.

This morning I saw how hard he hit his head. The cut had scabbed over nicely, but the area around his eye had puffed up and was threatening to become an impressive shiner. I shrugged, wished I had noticed Walter at the time, and moved on, knowing another child might fall at any second. Hopefully their walking skill will catch up to their walking confidence quickly.