I’m dreading tomorrow. I’m anticipating tomorrow. I can’t wait for it to come. The thought of it fills me with dread.
Tomorrow I should find out what is wrong with my little girl, if anything. Tomorrow I should find out if my non-toddling toddler is just a late walker or if there is, indeed, a more sinister reason for her lack of mobility. Continue reading
Frog turned 20 months old yesterday.
She’s still not walking.
Unfortunately for my child, she’s been blessed with rather wonky feet and very long lanky legs. Just like her dad.
Also, unfortunately for my child, every pavement in Britain isn’t littered with a permanent handrail on which to balance while trying to negotiate life on two feet. Continue reading
Frog has always had wonky feet.
The day she was born she came out all big feet and long skinny legs. She had Correctional Talipeze, meaning there wasn’t enough room for her long old feet in my womb, so they came out a bit like flippers.
Fast forward to today and at nearly 19 months Frog still isn’t walking. Continue reading
I’ve got the lurgy.
Nothing too traumatic, I’ll survive. But it’s days like today when I wish I could get a sick note and have the day off.
Lesson #43: there are no sick days when you have a baby.
It makes me realise what a tough nut my mum is. The only time I ever remember her being poorly was when she came off her bike and fractured her pelvis. I can clearly see her lying on the floor in the living room, with just her feet poking out from behind the sofa.
Apparently it was the only place she could get comfortable as she couldn’t make it up the stairs. But I have my suspicions she was trying to find a hiding place from my sister and I. I’m not sure our constant cartwheels and requests of “Can I bandage your leg, mum?” were particularly helpful.
Anyway, I’m off to recline on the sofa and put a cold compress to my brow. I have a feeling, though, that as soon as I get comfortable, Frog will wake up and demand something or other. Oh well, at least she can’t do cartwheels yet.