Running, Running, Running… and Falling.

Because Alex is by no means a calm baby (ha! “Calm” has never, ever, been a word to describe him. Even when he’s fast asleep he’s still babbling to himself and going in circles in his crib), it can be hard finding ways to entertain him. He doesn’t play with toys, so that’s not an option. He wont sit still long enough to read a book, so that’s not an option.

The way that I entertain him is pretty simple most of the time. It’s purely physical. We run, we tickle, we tackle, we giggle, we run some more.

His favorite game is chase. I chase him. He chases me. “I’m gonna get you! I’m gonna get you!” over and over again. “Oh no! You’re catching up! Oh no! Are you going to get me? Oh no!” Over and over again. And over again. And again. He loves it. He runs and giggles and runs and giggles all over the house, occasionally taking a break by sitting under our dining room table.

He is also enjoying a game of “Tackle” on the bed. We both sit up, and I say “tackle!” and I knock him over. (Well, I pull him in closely and then we lay down together with a little bounce from the bed. So, it’s not so much a tackle as it is my way of making him cuddle with me everyday.) Once I tackle him, he likes to tackle me in return. He lunges his whole body towards mine and we fall over together.

So cute.

Unfortunately, with his love of running around and the fact that he is still new to it, he falls. A lot. So, behold the first of what I assume will be many falling injuries:

Mouth injury from falling

The inside of his lip has a huge gash from his bottom teeth. So, between the little cut on the outside and the gash on the inside, there was a lot of blood.

He was over it and running around again about one minute after I thoroughly cleaned his mouth and lips.

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4 thoughts on “Running, Running, Running… and Falling.

  1. Welcome to what I like to call “the abuse victim stage”. It’s tons ‘o fun. Don’t worry, though, your pediatrician will not suspect abuse based on a few bumps or a black eye (or six). At least our doc didn’t….

    This morning Oliver went splat in the kitchen, landing on his knee and “fumb” and a few other spots. I didn’t have enough boo bunnies for all the owies. Then he stubbed his toe. Then he looked up at me and said, “I got a lot of hurts today.” Then we laughed.

  2. There will be way too many of those and sometimes it seems that they just don’t care much. I can’t even count how many brouses Ian has gotten or scratches. But the running around with them is always so fun.

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