Parenting a little boy can be very interesting. I'm trying to avoid stereotyping him however he really does seem to be a typical boy. Always curious, very little fear when it comes to climbing, jumping, exploring etc, ridiculous amounts of energy and always on the go.
I decided to take him to the beach this past weekend so he could run off some of that energy. It worked a little too well which meant I had the enviable task of convincing him to leave after an hour and a half. I figured by this point he had a pocket full of beach rocks, a couple of sand dollars (no longer living) a couple of shells, he'd picked up 3 starfish and chased too many crabs to count. His shorts were soaked along with the rest of him (and me) and his shoes were full of sand. This, to me, means we've had a succesful day at the beach and it's time to go. This, to M, means we should keep going and see just how much stuff we can find. After some kicking and screaming, a little down to his level discussion and a compromise, we were wandering the path back to the car picking flowers along the way. Next time I take him to the beach it will be with a lot of hours to waste.
Yesterday we went grocery shopping. Normally this entails carrying a basket and not buying much so M can carry one side and put everything in the basket. On this particular day we were having a shopping cart shop which is a little more difficult. It requires a stop at the bakery for the free cookie and a race through the aisles worthy of an Indy car driver hoping to finish before he has finished the cookie. When he has finished the cookie he starts to climb out of the cart. Then he pushes the cart for me which is actually not so bad. Once he's bored with that you can never tell what he's going to try. Yesterday he climbed in to the bottom portion of the cart, sat down and moved everything from the bottom to the top. Once he was satisfied he decided to jump. This is one of his newest favorite things to do. "Jump, jump, jump. Mommy, jump!" I hear that a lot. Obviously this was not the place to jump so after telling him this I started walking around the cart to put him on the floor so he could walk and jump. This is when he decided to jump again and lost his balance. Back he fell, off the cart, back of his head on the floor. A gigantic scream from him and a barely there breath from me. 5 years off my total lifespan in that one moment.
Off to the hospital we went since he was really not acting like his normal self after a bang up (we see a good number of bonks around our house) Half an hour of waiting and we got a lovely doctor who has a 2 year old boy himself. He knew just how to handle a little guy and efficiently checked him over. Final verdict... concussion. We have had our first officially labeled bonk. Likely the first of many although I expect over the years I'll see more sprains and broken things to go with the concussions.
One more first off the list and M has proven once again that he is a boy through and through.
