This has been one of those weeks where I secretly wish we were closer to your third birthday. No matter how many times we say to you that some something is dangerous, you still need to do it. I must have lost a few years off my life this past week, worried sick you'd seriously injure yourself.
A few days ago, despite being asked repeatedly to stop, you climbed up the back of the couch. Unfortunately, you didn't make it over the back and fell backwards, first onto your little table and then to the floor. You have a nice little bruise on your back now.
On Monday, we took a walk with some friends around the neighborhood. Despite being told to stop, you ran into the street. Into Broadway, no less. We are all so lucky for the person (I can't remember if it was a man or a woman) who stopped you as you stepped off the sidewalk. Our play date ended immediately and I grabbed you by the hand and marched you straight home.
I must have lectured you for a good hour after that stunt. 4 days later and I'm still catching my breath. You will not be permitted to walk outside unless strapped into your stroller or holding Mommy or Daddy or Tata or anyone else's hand. Firmly.
Let's stick to climbing on the playground and running in the park, shall we?
Sleep tight, little daredevil.
I love you,
Mommy
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