Our little Abbey is very brave. She seems to have quite a high pain tolerance; she'll bang her head, fall over, graze her legs, even burn herself - without a cry or a sound. It's something we've learnt to be very cautious of as, while it's usually a good thing, it can be a bit dangerous. Like the time she burnt herself, pointed and said 'ouch' and kept playing. I didn't do anything about it, thinking it mustn't be bad. Within a few hours, it was blistered, red and sore-looking (although it still didn't bother her!).
Normally, though, it's something that our friends and family find really funny. While they cringe as she walks into the corner of a table, Abbey just keeps going. While the blackberry thorn in the side of her nose bothers everyone else, she doesn't even notice it. Strangers look at us oddly when she falls over in the playground and Steve and I don't move an inch to help or comfort her - they don't realise that if we were to do that, we'd just be pushed away.
What this also means is that when Abbey does cry, we know she's really hurt herself (or is really tired!). And that requires a Kiss Better.
I remember the Kiss Better from my childhood, and started it with Abbey fairly recently. It acts as more of a distraction than anything, making her giggle.
The only problem with the Kiss Better is when the soreness is on an area of the body that, well, even a parent doesn't want to kiss.
Like when she doesn't have a nappy on and falls on her little bum. "Kiss, Mumma, kiss!" as she sticks her bum in my face. Um, how about I blow a kiss to that one? "No, Mumma, kiss!" Oh.
Or her feet that have been running through the mud and, quite possibly, chicken poo in the backyard. "Kiss, Mumma, kiss!" Gross.
A new one is when she accidentally bites the inside of her mouth when she's eating. The other day, she did this and came over to me, mouth open wide and full of porridge. She put her open mouth over my very tightly closed lips, trying to get me to kiss the inside of her cheek.
I know I'm her Mum, but seriously - surely I'm not expected to go that far?! (I pretended to, though, to make her feel better.)
Yes, there are limits to the Kiss Better. And it's just another reason I love it when she's a happy, wide awake, brave girl.
Megan
Aw, this post made me laugh! She sounds like such a brave little girl, and I just imagined her crawling all over you with porridge in her mouth xxx
ReplyDeletewe now put kisses on the hurt. I kiss my hand, then my hand kisses the hurt. My daughter (also named Abbey) now kisses her hand to kiss herself better!
ReplyDeleteAh, yes, I think I'd be passing on the porridgy mouth interior too, we all do have our limits. Abbey sounds very much like Petal, it's got to the point where if we are in a group and there is *thump, crunch, sob* everyone usually just looks at me. Oh dear, poor Abbey and Petal.
ReplyDeletemjelly, very smart solution! We do give kiss betters...though never have (yet) faced a porridge filled mouth. I like the practise as I know it will end soon enough with my boys refusing to be kissed and cuddled by mum in public!
ReplyDeleteAwwww! She sounds like a very spirited and adventurous little girl! I have two boys and both of them get lots of 'kiss betters'. The 4yo still asks for them whenever he hurts himself. Although the 4yo doesn't like wet kisses (sometimes I'll go all out and give him a sloppy kiss and he wipes it off). They get a lot of 'kiss for no reason' kisses, too!
ReplyDeleteroflol!!!
ReplyDeleteso get that!!!
have so been there!!!
He hee. Our kids really are kindred spirits. Bebito is exactly the same with braveness. He only cries when he genuinely hurts himself badly or others react on his behalf. I've been asked to kiss his feet more times than I can count and I dislike feet quite immensely! :)
ReplyDelete