Yesterday Henry and I had a play date with my cousin and her son (my godson), Wesley. Wes is nearly six, but him and Henry love playing together. It's pretty clear already that Henry wants to be exactly like Wes when he grows up. Now several times during the play date Liz and I laughed about we might possibly parent a little differently. I don't remember how many times I did something that sorta babied Henry and said "He's ONLY two!" And Liz said, "Come on, he's TWO!" Like, somehow saying that possibly he could feed himself that gingerbread cookie, rather than have me feed it to him. Or...that he could drink out of a regular cup without a straw. And YES, he can do these things, but I don't mind keeping him a baby. Helping him with things that maybe other moms would just expect him to be able to do on his own by now. (for the record, he can TOTALLY eat a cookie on his own. They were just a little sticky and he didn't want them on his PRECIOUS hands. "WASH HANDS?!?! WASH HANDS?!?!" *waves hands in the air at me*)
So after the snack we headed out to be back yard to play. The boys had a blast. After awhile they decided they wanted to swing, and I mention that Henry has never used a big boy swing. I felt the restraint Liz used to prevent rolling her eyes at me. "HE'S TWO!" she said. "HE'S ONLY TWO!" I say back, with both of us laughing. (My cousin and I have an enjoyable ability to even each other out. It is one of the reasons we are so close) But I decide to listen to her and put Henry in the big boy swing. And he can do it! He is holding on, he is happy. He is TWO! He can use a big boy swing!
So there we stand, pushing the boys, and I give H a push and he and the swing go up...and only the swing comes back. YOU ALL. HE IS ONLY TWO. HE IS NOT BIG ENOUGH! His little body, it just stayed at the hight of the swing, then fell straight back onto the ground with a loud "THUMP" as he landed flat on his back. Liz and I froze. Looked at the empty swing, then ran over to him. He lay in the grass, wide eyed. Shocked. Then...Oh the tears. It was pitiful you all. PITIFUL. But there was no bruising or broken bones. It mostly just scared the crap out of him. And us. We sat at the table and Liz looked at me, and I looked at her, and we both just started laughing. That relief of , "Oh crap, that looked SO. BAD." But he's fine! And, I don't want to burst into tears, so lets have a good laugh.
Within minutes Henry was back playing in the dirt with Wes. A little later he tried to climb the rock wall ladder to the slide. I said he couldn't do it by himself. Liz said to let him try. I did. He made it to the top. He might fall sometimes, but he is two. He is getting bigger every single day. When he falls, he will get back up and try again. It is amazing to watch.
But we might hold off on the big boy swings for another six months or so. He still is awfully little.