Learning The Hard Way.

We learn from our mistakes, and this has been true since we were walking around on all fours in the dirt.  I was actually referring to our evolutionary fore Fathers, but I can't ignore that statement's uncanny similarity to what my child does most of her day. I'll save the parallels between Tegan and apes for another post, as that list could get quite long.

So learning from our mistakes is how we've gotten where we are. We touch something hot, it hurts. We smile at someone, (hopefully) they smile back. We attempt to drink a gallon of milk in 5 minutes, we vomit.   I'm fine with this. I get it. She has to fall a lot to understand gravity, and learning to walk means learning to fall. And I let her fall, and maybe sometimes too hard.  Don't look at me like that, I'm just saying that I'm not hovering over my child and tossing a pillow under her ass to cushion her fall.

My problem with this process is that if I'm supposed to let her learn and explore things on her own, why can't she ever seem to cut my nerves a break and enjoy some child friendly activities. I mean really. "Oh neat, awesome new toys mom, and look, there's a kitty I could smother, but nah, I think I'll go try to scale the bookcase for the twenty-eighth time today. You know, the really wobbly one that could fall over at any moment.  And then I think I'll go learn how windows work and bang my head against the glass a few dozen times. And that glass candle thingy looks like it would shatter nicely on the tile floors."

All of this "learning" results in a remarkable number of bumps and bruises. Black eyes, goose eggs, scratches, cuts, the whole deal, and she's only 10 months old! The amazing thing is, she's fucking resilient. These injuries always freak Josh and I out. It scary as hell to see you kid get hurt, but the fearless Miss Tegan is never discouraged.  Not her, she'll fuss for a minute or two, but she always gets right back to concurring the bookcase.

(tip toes)