My son is learning to walk right now. Well technically, he can walk, but he chooses not to. It’s much faster for his to crawl across the room than to try and walk across it. Crawling is safe, easy and he is completely confident in his ability to get from one place to the other. Walking on the other hand, requires much more thought and attention. Something that 15 month olds don’t tend to have in large quantities.
Just the other day, hubby and I marveled at how excited he got talking from the coffee table in our living room to the window. It was really only about 3 steps for him but every time he went back and forth, he would squeal with delight and smile. He was so excited about his ability to move that he almost couldn’t contain it. I kept thinking that he was going to get so excited, he would forget to move his legs and wipe out. Sure enough, I hadn’t even gotten the sentence out of my mouth when . Down he went, face first into the floor. Not 2 seconds later he was being scooped up into my arms for comfort, kisses and dried tears. We managed to avoid blood shed but our little guy gave himself quite the fat lip. You’d think a scare like that would deter him from wanting to try again.
As soon as the tears dried, he was up and about, trying again, almost oblivious to the pain he had endured just minutes earlier.
Maybe it’s my somewhat longer attention span, or perhaps being too old to have someone pick me up and kiss my tears away but I certainly don’t have the same resolve in things that I do. When I fall (physically and figuratively), it hurts! I remember the bruised ego, the sore muscles, the frustration and I can tell you without a doubt, I don’t tend to get up and act like nothing’s happened after just a few minutes.
It never ceases to amaze me the lessons that my son teaches me every day. I know he’s not going to give up on walking, so perhaps I should concentrate less on falling and more on practicing what he’s teaching me.