Jack and Jill and Finley

Okay, so I took last Monday off. It was a Holiday, after all. Even though around here, Labor Day is March 10th – that’s when Heather’s contractions kicked in – I decided to take a day off. I get to, every once in a while.
It turns out there wasn’t a heck of a lot going on that last week, anyway. Finley’s speaking skills are improving and she’s reached the stage where she is beginning to mimic what we say and noises we make. Of course, some of the bigger words are more difficult, but she certainly gives it a try.
The key to all of this is that she understands US. She may not know to communicate back as well, but she knows what we’re saying to her. She knows to go get books when we ask. She knows when we say it’s time for bed. And although at times she may pretend like she can’t understand, she knows when we say “no.”
She’s also eating up every experience she can. She wants to climb and look and discover everything. And as much as that is great, it can also be scary.
For the most part, our condo is safe. There are a few things like bathrooms and areas of the kitchen we keep her away from, but most of the rest of the house has been made to be very soft.

But the other day, I had my first real scare with her. One of those things that happens so fast, you don’t have time to think, just react. And it makes you realize how much you really need to pay attention when a munchkin is around.

We have to climb a flight of stairs to get to our 2nd floor condo. 14 steps of concrete, no carpeting.

 And as scary as they are, a toddler doesn’t want to be carried down and up them. No, she wants to be big and climb them herself.
Finley has been very good about knowing that we have to hold her hands when we go up or down the stairs. She’s just too small to really navigate them that well. And she enjoys counting along as we help her.
Wednesday morning, we were headed out to daycare. I had my bags and was locking the door behind me. I told her to wait for me, which she did, and she waited about a foot from the first step, at the top of the landing. She was pretty excited to go to school and her body language showed it. She had her hand up in the air, waiting for my hand and in her excitement swung at my hand, but missed. The momentum sent her over the top step and down the stairs, in a head first somersault.

In a heartbeat I dropped my bags and flopped to the floor to grab her leg before she continued her tumble. I caught her at about the third step, and although it was a short fall, she still got a bruise on the forehead, a cut on her noise and a scrape on her arm.
As you would expect, she was not too happy and was crying pretty well. To her credit, she only cried for a minute or so and was pretty bewildered for a bit. Thank goodness, that was the worst of it. I was a bit shaken for a while and just kept imagining if I hadn’t grabbed her. But I did, and the only thing I had to worry about now, was whether or not to tell the Momma. I decided to tell her and made sure to preface not to freak out and everyone is fine before I told the story. Besides, I couldn’t very well blame daycare for the bruises!
The one good thing to come out of this whole thing showed up this morning, as we were getting ready to leave, again. 

This time she had a firm hold of my hand and her other hand was on the rail. But she just couldn’t force herself to take that first step. She was happy to let me pick her up and take her down. Having a little fear for the stairs for now is not such a bad thing. It shows that she really is learning.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I know I won’t be there every time she falls. But as long as she can dust herself off and learn from it, I’ve done my job. It still doesn’t mean I won’t worry about her… For the rest of my life.