Dad's day & tumbles

Yesterday was a beautiful day, and was spent doing a variety of chores and lots of playing with VK in the yard. While playing outside late in the day VK took a couple of tumbles . . . one involved a wheelbarrow and some stone steps and she semi-gracefully caught herself as she did a headstand just before she would have plowed headfirst into the step. No harm no foul, she seemed slightly scared for a second but no crying and 30 seconds later was racing across the backyard as if nothing happened (that's my girl!). 10 minutes later she was at the far end of the yard "helping" Andrea do some weeding. By helping what I really mean is she was standing on top of Andrea's gardening stool dancing and generally raising a "look at me" ruckus when she tipped the whole thing over and landed head first in the mud. Again this resulted in what appeared to be a little damaged pride and nothing more. The pictures below are proof of that.

Where am I going with all this? Well it being Fathers Day and all, I am reflecting on the 2 years since our daughter came into our lives and how it has changed me, and continues to change me. I look back to when she was threatening to start walking (which seems ages ago!!) and how afraid I was about that first wipeout. I constantly asked my friends and co-workers how they handled it. My brain couldn't get past the fact that my little girl was fragile, and new enough to the world that taking a spill while trying something as significant as walking could set her back and/or actually hurt her. How was she going to handle that? How was I going to handle that? How was her mother going to handle that?

If you take a quick scan through any baby type catalogue you will find all sorts of child-proofing supplies including huge bumpers for things like fireplace mantles and coffee table corners. I imagine that at some point I might have worried less about VK hurting herself if we had padded the house, but after she took her first spill and got right back up and tried again I was OK. Clearly she was OK with it and her personality was such that a little gravity wasn't going to get in her way.

Now 6 months later that personality drives her to be the little daredevil that she is. She runs across the hardwood floors with her socks on (no traction) she climbs on anything that she can, she slides down the stair on her belly (often times at breakneck speeds) and generally acts like a little stunt baby.

As Andrea and I giggled at the hurt pride that comes with falling head first in the mud I found myself being grateful that first and foremost we were there to make sure that she was OK, and secondly that we are able to be OK with letting our daughter push her limits ever so slightly and experience life's little bumps and bruises (and occasional mudbath) at her own pace.

Being a Dad is good, everyday not just Fathers Day. Fathers Day is a wonderful time to take a look around and realize how lucky you are to be a Dad.