after a week of a 28 pound child spending most of his time in my lap, on that leg, it’s not surprising.
Sitting on the floor, which I used to do all the time and prefer to sitting on a chair, hurts. A lot. Especially if my leg already hurts.
But, for the first time ever, on Saturday, Adam came over to me and took me by the hand and asked me to sit on the floor and play with him. He usually prefers to play by himself so him asking me to play was momentous.
So, despite the pain in my leg, I got down on the floor. We looked at books and pushed cars around and, for some reason known only to him, held the pieces of the big puzzle in our hands. When I tried to lay them out and put them together, they were very decidedly picked back up and put back into my hands!
Did it hurt? Oh hell yes.
Did I do it for long? Not really. Maybe 20 minutes.
Was I happy to do it? Oh hell yes.
And I think that’s the thing non-parents and even, sometimes, my husband, don’t understand about being a mummy. That you’ll do anything for your child. Even cause yourself pain, lose yourself sleep, hold your bladder or not eat, if your child needs you for something.
Granted, playing on the floor or not playing on the floor is not a need, per se. But my son asked me very directly to join him for the first time ever. He came over to where I was sitting on the sofa and took my hand and most definitely asked me to sit on the floor with him.
And so I swallowed my pain and went with him.
And would do so again in a heartbeat.
And that “do anything for your child” feeling never leaves even when your “children” are 42 and 44!