It is now common knowledge that Knox is a wild child. He never sits still, he’s always flipping, hanging upside down, twisting himself into a pretzel, climbing on something or just wiggling incessantly. Changing his diaper has become somewhat of an extreme sport. Try wrangling a poop-filled diaper off of kid that’s standing on his head… not so simple, y’all.
Last night, as I was changing Knox’s diaper on the changing table, it became apparent that his nose was in need of the bulb syringe. His closet is directly next to the dresser/ changing table, so with one hand still on Knox, I reached in to grab a burp cloth.
And he rolled right off of the table.
Thank goodness I ALWAYS keep at least one hand on this daredevil! I swear, it was like he was falling in slow motion. I was able to grab onto the back of his shirt with that mindful hand and catch him before he crashed headfirst onto the floor. He looked at me like “Why’d you do that?”
Even though I caught him and diverted disaster, my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. He had a little red mark on his forehead for all of one minute where it scraped against the carpet, but I still felt bad about it. This age is a hard one because of how active Knox is and how little he understands consequences of diving off of furniture. He has no idea he will get hurt if he leaps from the couch or head-butts the coffee table. I am constantly catching him when he topples over or diverting him away from sharp corners and I feel a lot like a sheepdog herding my flock around. He hates baby jail and just wants to be free, not that I can blame him, so I have resigned myself to the fact that if he’s not in the jumperoo or on one of our laps, we have to stick to him like glue.
He is exactly like Trevor (who was a SPAZ as a child… I’ve seen the videos), and though I’ve always said that I want all boys, I am starting to wonder if girls would be easier.
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