Friday, December 13, 2013
I was a climber apparently. I remember climbing onto the kitchen cabinets pretty young. I liked climbing on things. Bub was not. He never really climbed on anything and never seemed that interested. Button is a climber and no one warned me about how stressful having a climber is. She is on everything. She's pretty good at it. I guess my first indicator was when she learned to climb on the sofa and then the chair. My mom has bar stool height dining chairs and Button can climb on them. She loves stairs and ladders. Anything that can help her reach things she shouldn't have basically. I have a ladder bookcase in my bedroom and I caught her trying to climb that. She'd be up on the counter if her legs weren't so short. Her ability to climb up on things is actually useful in a way. She doesn't need me to put her up on so many things. The other day she was walking on her dresser after being changed and I asked where she was going. "I don't know," she said as she walked to the edge. She fell down a hill the other day that she had climbed and her nose is all scratched up. Yet BT said the thing she was most mad about was that he wouldn't let her climb the hill again. She is fearless and that's not good. A little fear never hurt and certainly would make her mother feel better.