We’re getting settled into the new house. Which is, technically, a townhouse. Meaning that it’s tall and narrow: four stories tall, to be exact. And that’s a lot of stairs.
It already feels like home after only five days, but the stairs are definitely the biggest adjustment. Especially since our previous apartment was all on one level. And ESPECIALLY since I’m eight months pregnant.
You learn pretty quickly that going up and down that many stairs all day long is just too exhausting. So you start to plan out when you’re going upstairs, when you’re coming back down, and what you need to bring with you when you go either way. Which is all a little more effort, but I’m adjusting.
What I’m not adjusting to as well is Addie on the stairs. She’s two and a half years old, she can do stairs just fine. But she hasn’t had a ton of experience with them. And more importantly, I haven’t had a ton of experience watching her do them. I’m not used to the idea of her just climbing up and down stairs like it’s no big deal. But that’s what she wants to do.
She doesn’t think twice about just running upstairs if she wants to grab her Rainbow Dash doll, or running downstairs if she wants her ipad. Meanwhile I’m chasing after her, my heart racing, images of her crashing down the stairs crowding out all rational thinking. I know she can do it, but I’m still terrified. Continue reading