So far even with my horrible mothering skills, knock on wood, we’ve had ZERO broken bones, ZERO stitches, ZERO ambulance visits (for them, for me and the barbed wire well, that’s another story) . And if you could see how tall the trees they climb are and how steep the hills they like to ride their bikes down are, you’d be amazed. I’m amazed. I was an oppressed city girl who had more broken bones before I was in 5th grade than the 3 of them combined have had their entire lives. I think it’s more about coordination (which luckily they inherited from their father) than it is location. But man, my kids, like to tempt fate. Especially this one.
Oh what's that? You can't make out which kid it is because he's so tiny in comparison to the giant tree he climbed? That would be Blade.
This kid is FEARLESS, with a capital F-E-A-R-L-E-S-S. Seriously. Haunted Houses? Scary movies? Spiders? Snakes? Boogie Man? Heights? Super high, fast, curvy, upside down roller coasters? Bring it, doesn't phase him. Obviously, he's my clone.
We should’ve known when he was 3 and hauled his bike to the top of the twisty slide at the park and RODE HIS BIKE DOWN THE TWISTY SLIDE.
Oy. Have mercy. It does make him a lot of fun to take to amusement parks though and pretty unshakeable on the football field. But I digress.
The other day he informed me, “Mommy, guess what? I climbed the windmill.” (Yeah, he’s a 10 ½ year old boy and still calls me Mommy and if you make fun of him for it I will cut you. :) )
“NO. YOU. DID. NOT.”
“Yep, I did, it wasn’t that hard.”
“But it’s so….so?..HIGH. And old and howdoyouknowitssafe and isn’t it wobbly? Was the wind blowing because if the wind was blowing that probably made it even more wobbly” Just because I’m not a helicopter mom doesn’t mean I can shut off the momness.
“No it’s not, it’s fine. Come on I’ll show you.”
So I did what any normal mother would do, I grabbed my camera and my phone (you know in case I had to call 911) and said, “OK, let’s go but you have to be careful!” Right, cuz he’s all about safety first.
And this is what happened.
He did it. Then he looked down at me and smiled and waved as if he were standing on the front porch instead of 130* ft in the air. (That is an estimation, could be more could be less. Probably less, a lot less, but it definitely felt like more when my brown eyed baby was at the top of it.) And then I started to get nauseous because it was so high and what if he fell and please for the love of all that is holy KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE WINDMILL AT ALL TIMES!?! Then I had to start breathing into a paper bag, I’m not a heartless mother after all. I don't know why I was worried, I mean, he had his soccer shinguards on after all. You know, just in case the windmill gave him a swift kick in the shins. *eyeroll*
And GI Joe very nonchalantly said, “We used to do it all the time.”
Oh.
So THAT’S where he gets it.
Lord, help us all.
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