There’s a saying. “A hard head makes for a soft behind …”
Myles is a sensitive kid and there’s no question that he’s a mama’s boy (at least for now). He clings to me in a way that has sometimes caused me a little concern because I want him to foster a sense of independence and self-confidence that allows him to try new things without being timid or afraid. I am now here to tell you that it’s no longer a concern.
Yesterday afternoon I was flying solo with the kids while Kelley was at the Byron Nelson. Jude and I were in the living room and I thought the kids were in the playroom. When I heard noise in the dining room, I assumed it was the dog. I was wrong.
Myles: Mommy, can you come help me with something?
Me: Yep, I’ll be there in a second.
I was in the middle of sending an email so I didn’t go to him immediately and about 2 minutes later I heard him say “Never mind.” Yeah, I knew better than that!
I walked into the dining room to find 2 bar stools in the middle of the room (we don’t have dining room furniture yet) with a set of headphones wrapped around the back of one of the chairs.
Me: What do you need, Son?
Myles: Nothing. I’m just building a zip line.
Huh??? How does this child even know what a zip line is? And what made him think he could make one with 2 chairs and a pair of cheap, plastic headphones?? I explained to him that the chairs weren’t tall enough for a zip line and that he would need something stronger, like a rope. In hindsight, providing him with a better strategy was probably not my smartest move but he seemed to understand that it wasn’t going to work and headed back to the playroom.
About a half an hour later, Kelley came home and was trying to get Jude down for a nap. I had just walked into the kitchen to get dinner started when I heard a “THUNK-THUNK-THUNK” on the stairs and then a cry from Myles. Having fallen down the stairs several times myself (I might be a little clumsy), I’m familiar with that sound. I flew around the corner to find Myles in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and a laundry basket next to him.
Now, maybe I’m naïve, having never lived in a house with stairs before. But, if you had asked me yesterday, I would have sworn that riding down the stairs in a laundry basket was one of those urban legends that only happened on tv or in the movies. Guess not.
I picked Myles up and held him in my lap. I wanted to laugh. I really did. It was so, completely ridiculous. But instead of busting out laughing, I buried my giggles in his shoulder while he wailed “It huuuuurrrrts” in my ear over and over. Well, yeah. You just tumbled down the stairs, child. That generally causes some pain
Me: What happened, Son?
Myles: I fell.
Me: I see that. How did you fall? What were you doing?
Myles: I was riding down the stairs.
Me: Riding down the stairs, how?
Myles: I was in the laundry basket.
Me: And what happened when you rode down the stairs in the laundry basket?
Myles: I got hurt. I hurt my knees. And my head.
Me: Well, that’s why riding down the stairs in the laundry basket isn’t a good idea. You’re gonna be okay but I don’t think you should do that again. Okay?
Myles: But I can just wear my helmet and knee pads.
Me: I don’t think so, baby. Because you fell. And then what happened …
Myles: I got hurt.
Me: So then you probably shouldn’t do that again.
Myles: But I want to.
Me: But then you’re gonna get hurt again.
Myles: I know, but I still want to.
I knew he was hard-headed. At 4, he already thinks he knows more than I do. I can see now that this won’t change. And I’m gonna go ahead and call it. This will be the summer of emergency room visits. I have a feeling they’ll know us by name.