Feeling guilty.

So Teddy is now 17 months old, running around the place, reeking havoc as he goes. As hard as this may be sometimes, I wouldn't have it any other way. T started walking at 14 and a half months ( when I say walking, what I really mean is running!). He's one of those toddlers that takes his time learning something new, but once he's got to grips with it there is no stopping him. The pram will soon become redundant (he gets his stubborness from both sides of his family) and the one of the best things we ever bought him is his Little Life Tigger rucksack and reins. 

However, along with this amazing developmental step and new found freedom and discovery, comes trips, falls and bumps. The tears are bad enough when T has just fallen and bumped his head, but so much worse when it's your rather large bottom that has caused it. 

Take a few days ago, for instance. I was getting ready to go out ensuring I have all the paraphernalia that comes with taking a toddler out of the house, when I turned towards the front door (not realising there was a little silent ninja behind me) and T went flying into the door frame resulting in a giant egg on his head. I WAS MORTIFIED!! The overwhelming sense of guilt is, I am sure, just as heartbreaking for me as it is with every other parent. All you want to do is cover them with kisses and hug them forever but it still doesn't seem enough. You only start feeling slightly better when they forget about it and carry on playing as if nothing happened. I love just how robust children are. Adults continue feeling sorry for themselves, moaning to anyone who will listen (myself included!). Kids just brush themselves off and get on with whatever distracts them.

One thing I have learnt being a Mum, is nothing should ever surprise you. I know we are all biased about our children being the the best at everything, the most beautiful tiny person you have ever seen and just generally awesome! 

Yesterday, T yet again surprised me by showing just how good his fine motor skills are by stickering without me even having to show him how to do it. Isn't it strange how the most simplist of things we take for granted every child can do, makes you so proud of them when they do it. I've now promised myself not to just assume he is too young to try something new, to let him have a go.