My child has no fear. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
It's quickly getting to the point where I literally can't take my eyes off her for thirty seconds, and silence signals trouble now more than ever. The boo-boo tally has made quite a jump lately...five yesterday alone in just the few short hours I spent with her in the evening. At this age, telling her to be careful is as effective as singing the alphabet. She doesn't know what it means, but she tries to repeat it back to me while she continues to do whatever she is doing that could lead to another boo-boo. Ugh.
So, my sister bought Punky a rocking horse for her birthday. Nothing complex, it's just a small, plastic horse that sits directly on the floor. It has a seat where the saddle would be, handles sticking out the sides of its head, and the bottom is rounded slightly for some mild rocking action. It took Punky no time at all to figure out how to get herself on and off of it, how to rock back and forth, and even how to spin it around in a circle while rocking. She really loves it.
Saturday night, I watched as Punky played with the horse for a while. She would get on...rock a few times...get back off again. She repeated this routine a handful of times while Mama clapped proudly and told her what a big girl she is, and how smart she is, and how fast she learns...blah, blah, blah...
I reached for my bottle of water and took a long drink. When I glanced back towards Punky, it didn't register as first but within seconds I realized she was standing on the seat of the rocking horse, bent over holding the handles, and rocking it back and forth for all she was worth. Of course I flew across the room and grabbed her before she dumped it, and she found my sudden burst of action absolutely hysterical. Needless to say, she kept trying to do it again but I sat right next to her and tried to make her understand the best I could that standing on the horse is a big fat no-no.
Apparently, she didn't get the message. She gave up trying until I walked into the kitchen for a few seconds. Sneaky little shit. I came back just in time to see the horse tip and Punky hit the floor sideways. Her poor little head...another encounter with the carpet. And then she cried. And cried. And cried some more. Usually she brushes it off within a minute and is back to playing but this time she cried for close to ten minutes. I was really getting worried when she finally calmed down.
I posted before about my mom's theory that sometimes Punky will need to get hurt in order to learn not to do something or how to do it the right way. I am still hoping to find a better option to teach her such lessons, but the shoe fit in this case and the damage was already done so I was curious what would result from her boo-boo. Did she learn a lesson? Would she even remember getting hurt? Would she now have some level of fear towards the horse and avoid it entirely? Would she attempt that stupid stunt again?
Fifteen minutes later I got my answers: No. Doubt it. None at all. Certainly.
One good head bang and ten minutes of crying taught her absolutely nothing remotely resembling a lesson (except maybe that Mama will hold, rock, and kiss a crying baby until the crying stops). If she could actually remember the accident from just a half hour earlier, there were no signs she was thinking about it at all as she got back on the horse (literally - too funny!) New fear developed? Not the tiniest hint of fear anywhere. She passed on riding it the right way, even for a just minute to appease her mama, and went right back to standing on it. The horse spent the rest of the night in the coat closet.
Even though she just really got the hang of walking on her own two short weeks ago, she spent Friday walking backwards through entire rooms at a time...and ultimately falling over everything in her path. She tries to pull herself into the bathtub head first and will eventually succeed I'm sure. She still climbs up on the basket chair if she has the opportunity. She climbs up on the bed in her room when she can. Again I attempted to show her the right way to get down by sliding off on her belly. After doing it for her repeatedly by dragging her off the bed feet first, I put her back up and told her to show me how big girls get down off the bed. She flashed me a smile and ran for the edge of the bed without hesitation. If I wasn't standing right there, she would've landed on her face. Sigh.
My job, above all else, is to protect her and keep her safe. She's giving me a run for the money in this department. She just turned one; what stunts will she be pulling at two? I have a feeling I may be 'that' mom. You know the one...whose child jumps off the roof with kites strapped to her arms in an attempt to fly...
I am thankful she's so tiny. It's still virtually impossible for her to climb out of her crib. But knowing my little daredevil, she's already plotted her escape route and is patiently waiting for her body to grow the two inches necessary to put the plan in motion. Never has the phrase "too smart for her own good" been more applicable than it is to my Punky Knievel.
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