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1-4 Yrs: The Buggy Blog - Let's Get Physical
Twinkle toes my middle son is not. It's fair to say we don't have a young Billy Elliot in the making. His running style is a unique sort of galumph as he bounds along from foot to foot. And he's forever tripping over unravelling shoelaces. I’m not saying he was born with two left feet, but he just has a certain clodhopping manner that was sure, sooner or later, to land him in trouble. And so our visit to A&E this week was a … ahem … trip just waiting to happen. When out with daddy and granny, he stumbled into a protruding rusty screw. I'm still not entirely sure of the full details but daddy had the foresight to ring and warn me that he was bringing home the Children in Need bear. Sure enough, thanks to the generous first-aid of a passing nurse, B soon appeared at the door strapped up to the nines like Pudsey Bear. Fortunately, there the likeness ended and he hadn't also turned yellow. Upon peeling off the head bandages and taking a closer inspection of the wound, a glass of water and fresh air were prescribed. And then once my queasiness had passed, I duly dispatched daddy off to A&E to get the small guy cleaned and fixed up. B relished the drama of it all. He's been milking it for all he's worth ever since, hanging his head and giving out big 'pity me' doe eyes at the slightest mention of his admittedly impressive outsize plaster. OK, so he may not breeze through his 'agility' badge in Cub Scouts but he'll surely score a perfect ten for the one in performing arts. But I'm being unfair. Aside from his unscheduled head-butting stunt, B's physical prowess has actually been coming on in leaps and bounds, if you'll pardon the expression. This week he managed to ride his trike using the pedals instead of the usual toddler foot-to-floor thrust. And he's also now king of bladder control being … oh joy … out of nappies overnight. The other boys aren't to be outdone, however. It's one for all and all for one with my three so the others wanna get physical too. S has maddeningly learnt to back-arch and struggle for Britain whenever I try to put him in the buggy. Strapping him in is like trying to grapple a wet bar of soap into the Maclaren. Meanwhile, J has actually been growing. As in getting taller. This week I even had to let his school trousers down a little. That’s the age-3-size trousers which had been considerably hemmed up at the start of term and which are now only hemmed up a bit. Either the school dinners are succeeding in feeding him up(wards) or J can't handle the irony of being in Reception's 'Giraffe' group without fighting back any longer. Whatever the catalyst, the result is good. It's one small nudge up the height chart to you or me, one giant leap upwards for J as he crashes through the 100cm barrier. (Not literally thank goodness or we'd be up for questioning if another of our children had ended the week in bandages.) |
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