Friday, September 12, 2008

Mother's Little Helper

Wanted: Toddler size body armour with well-padded helmet

Whoever up or out there in charge of life, the universe and everything, I want to personally thank you for all I've been blessed with and smack the stuffing out of you for having such a wickedly sick sense of humour.

Wednesday afternoon, we were all making our way, our usual careful way, up the stairs for naptime. The kids are very good with stairs in both directions, and maybe that's why my guard went down.

They both started out evenly just ahead of me, but Erin rounded the corner at the top and took the lead. We have a gate installed at the top of the stairs, mostly to keep the cat out of the bedrooms and I had to unlatch that to get Erin up to the top floor so she wouldn't be precariously perched on a narrow piece of floor. I opened the gate, and made sure Erin was safely balanced on the floor and turned my attention to Ty.

As I was on my way down the two steps to get behind him, he tried to climb up to the next step and missed. He sat down, his first instinct when gravity exerts an unequal force on his frame, and planted his bum on the stair beneath him. That started a horrific chain of events that involved him falling backward and head first down the stairs, catching his shoulder on a step that flipped his entire body over his head onto his belly and the sommersault finally ended with him on his back on the bottom landing.

Meanwhile, I'm just a step behind him with 2 Buzz Lightyears in my hands - which get tossed I-don't-care-where and I so badly want this tumble to end, but I know if I intervene at the wrong time, I could hurt him worse than the stairs.

Finally he stops and I'm beside him on the bottom landing, carefully, methodically, quickly looking for anything out of place. Is he conscious? Is he breathing? Is he....

And he wails, "Kiss it betterrrrrrrr!"

A couple hundred kisses and a big hug from mommy made it all better. Ty and Buzz Lightyear were reunited and we went back up the stairs for that naptime. Except this time, I carried Ty.

Up in bed, I told Erin that Ty had a big owie. She climbs over into Ty's bed and kisses him on the head and as she gently rubs his chest, asks, "All better, buddy?"

This morning, I was admiring the little bit of rug rash on Ty's neck - the worst of injuries sustained from his battle with gravity. I am just starting to entertain the notion that maybe the experience will teach him to be a little more careful when Ty highdives off the sofa, to the floor (onto his head, of course) and crashes into a pile of hard plastic toys. He barely whimpers as he shows me where I need to plant a kiss on his forehead. Then he gives me a big smile, jumps up and races back to the couch for more.

It's been said that fate protects fools and little children. Kids are seemingly indestructible by design. Myself on the other hand, well... let's just say I have a new appreciation for the Rolling Stones...

"running for the shelter of her mother's little helper..."

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