Walk at your toddler’s pace, they said. Notice what they notice, they said. You’ll gain a new appreciation of beauty and life and learn how to slow down and enjoy the world in an entirely new way, they said.
False.
Walking along, behind, and in front of a 2-year-old is akin to going to the dentist. You dread it, it’s mostly unpleasant during the procedure, and maybe after you’re done you feel like it was a good healthy choice, but you never look back at it with wonder or gratitude. It just is what it is: a time-consuming exercise, a battle of wills of you arguing internally between “just-pick-the-damn-kid-up” and “she-really-seems-content-I-can-fake-a-smile-a-little-longer”.
In reality, I DO let L walk. Quite often. The bugger has great stamina and can keep up with myself and the six-year-old pretty well. I love fostering her independence this way and I know it is fun for her.
But I don’t see how on Earth it’s supposed to inspire or help ME at all.
Every now and then, the idea of putting a retractable leash on my toddler, creeps into my head. MUST REFRAIN! Ha!
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