On the sidelines at my oldest daughter's soccer practice this evening, I spoke with a friend who also has three kids. We watched as my two-year-old dribbled a soccer ball on the sidelines with unlikely skill for someone so small.
"That's impressive. That's World Cup stuff," my friend noted as she
took a sip of her coffee. "You do know that this will be the kid who
trips over herself while walking down the hallway," she joked.
Isn't that the truth, though? Have you ever marveled at the competing lack and abundance of a child's physical coordination?
"You know, I've seen my son stab himself in the cheek with his own fork while eating." my friend continued. "And I've watch him pour his drink over himself because he tips his cup before bringing it to his mouth. We're still practicing this: touch it to your mouth, then tip. Touch, then tip! But then one of the kids will do a perfect cartwheel and flip and I think, aren't you the child who fell out of your chair during dinner?"
I had my own stories to contribute because my kids seem to like falling up flights of stairs and walking into large, inanimate objects. Walls, for instance. They've also been known to injure themselves while brushing their teeth.
They must get this from me. I'm not the world's most coordinated person.
Later in the evening once we got home from practice, I was helping the little ones hang up their jackets and line up their shoes. I heard a thud and splash from the bathroom. "Mom! Quick, I need a towel!" Reese yelled. "I slipped!"
In this one moment the contrast of coordination was made all the more clear. During soccer practice this child had demonstrated one hour and fifteen minutes worth of successful footwork, and then within a minute after arriving home, she somehow managed to submerge one of those feet directly in the toilet.
They grow out of this, right?