Some months ago, Bill woke up with something wrong with his leg. It hurt him and he couldn’t seem to bear any weight on his leg. It was very worrying. I took him to the emergency room where a very young, enthusiastic doctor (he kept calling Bill “Chicken” as an endearment) was unable to diagnose the problem. Over the day his leg gradually improved, but he limped a little over the next couple of days. Since then I think Bill’s had a few cramps in his leg, but he’s not suffered the crippling effects of the first incident.
Our weekends have fallen into a predictable pattern. Mess around at home until Bill’s cabin fever reaches a heated pitch. His toddler energy overcomes our feeble parenting skills and furniture is overturned, books are pulled out and chairs are pushed over to high shelves and sticks are employed to reach the really expensive bric-a-brac that we had previously thought was out of reach.
Only at that point do we start getting ready to take the boy out where he might burn off some energy. Richmond Park with its wide open spaces and interesting ducks and deer.
Inevitably he falls asleep on the way there.
It means that we get a peaceful walk. But it also means that as we tire of walking over hill and dale with a heavy-duty stroller filled with a hefty toddler and are ready to go home, he wakes up refreshed and ready to destroy more stuff.
So we’ve started waking him up. Bill can be a chipper little thing in the morning, but he does not wake well from naps. He wants to get back in the stroller. Refusal often offends.
After some tears and recalcitrance he does enjoy the feeding the ducks and running around. Recently, after standing on the big tree stump
and feeding some ducks
we decided it was time to walk through the Isabella Plantation and burn off some of his excess energy. He was not so sure.
Oh my gimpy gam
Bill clutched his leg and said “My leg hurts. I want to see the doctor.” I didn’t know whether to be annoyed by this blatant ploy, pleased by his sentence construction or amazed by his ability to construct such a fabrication. We refused to give in and made him walk along the paths while he continued to limp and demanded medical attention. I did feel a slight twinge. What if his mysterious ailment had returned? What would other visitors to park think of our failure to attend to our poor injured child?
Funny thing, though, when we got to the stepping stumps, a sure toddler energy burner. The leg healed spontaneously. A miracle! He was able to hop, skimp and jump.