Growing Pains

Growing up is painful. How do I know this? I am the mom of an 18 month old boy which officially makes me an expert.

It starts out innocently enough. Climbing up on bigger and bigger furniture, beaming about his accomplishment. But does this ever end well? No, no it does not.

First it was climbing into the fireplace. It was not enough to climb up on the bricks, that's too easy. No, for this kid, it's getting into the fireplace, grabbing a fistful of rocks and shoving them into his mouth before I can grab him. Then he started climbing on the sofa. He starts out sitting there, so proud that he's up in the big furniture, but he quickly stands, jumps then lands on his butt. He never stops laughing and I swear that he's laughing because he knows I'm about to have a stroke! And just the other day he started climbing from the sofa onto the side tables. The wobbly, not mean to be stages, side tables.

It's so hard to let him play and not try to save him. He's my baby. I try to sit back and let him be, but I am nervous by nature and this is pushing my nervousness to the limits. I've watched him run into the kitchen table probably 1000 times this week alone. He doesn't realize he's a few inches too tall to make it under the table, so he often runs full speed ahead until...BUMP. The amazing thing is, he gets up every single time. He rarely cries. Sometimes there's a little whimper (meh, meh), but mostly he grunts and keeps going.

This should make it easier for me. He's not a crybaby, he's a tough boy. I shouldn't worry so much because he has it all under control.

Not so much. I think I worry more because whatever the stunt is that stops him is going to be bad. Really bad.

But for now, I just suffer from the growing pains.