Putting on My Super-Mom Cape

I have come to accept that falling down the stairs is a rite of passage that most kids (and moms) will go through. The Big One certainly fell down the stairs, the Husband has fallen down the stairs and I have been waiting for the Little One to do it and get it over with.

Granted, there is a caveat for her falling down the stairs. She has to fall down the first portion of stairs. We have a split staircase. There are eight stairs up, then you turn the corner and go up the other eight stairs. So while I know the Little One is going to fall down the stairs, she must fall down the first eight so she ends up on the carpeted landing. She is not allowed to fall down the second half of the stairs. We’ve already learned what happens when she goes face-first onto the tile from just a few inches. I cannot imagine the damage (and blood) if she fell down the stairs and hit the tile.

So the other day, it happened… almost. The Big One was already down in the playroom, as the Little One and I were making our way down. We’ve taught the Little One to go down the stairs backwards so she stays safe. She and I got down the first half of the stairs together and then I went ahead down all the way to the kitchen to get both girls some water. Yes, I left the Little One on the stairs. She knows how to get down them and she definitely was eager to get down and play with her sister.

Suddenly I hear the Little One screaming a high-pitched, scared-for-her-life squeal. I looked around the corner to see her standing on the second from the top step, hanging on to the banister with one hand and reaching down trying to grasp the steps with her other hand. Physics is definitely not my forte, however I do understand the laws of gravity and knew that she was not in a good position. It was like she was trying to get into position to crawl face-first down the stairs… Not good.

I could see her little fingers slowly coming unraveled from around the banister and knew the results were going to be disastrous. Just as I started freaking out – screaming “NONONONONONO, NO, NO…” – she let go of the banister and began her descent. I ran about half way to the stairs and somehow slid across the tile. You’ve seen your favorite rock stars do it for effect, they run half-way across the stage and then slam down onto their knees, the momentum forcing them across the other half of the stage.

I know I could never do it again on purpose, but no matter how I did it, I slid into the bottom step just as the Little One rolled off that last step. She landed perfectly on my lap. Out of breath and shaking, I scooped her up close to me to hold her and make sure she was okay. What did she do? She giggled as if to say, “YAY! Let’s do it again.” Then she pushed me away, wriggled out of my arms and went on to play with here sister like nothing happened.

I sure hope that qualifies as the Little One’s first and only fall down the stairs. I don’t think my heart {or my knees} could take another episode like that one.