There are days when plans go out the window. Take tonight, for instance. I had planned to write a breathtakingly awe-inspiring post that would thrill and amaze you. Instead, my focus is on Mr6 and the fact that he rolls like a tumbleweed through my house, day and night.
He’s not a big kid. Average. Brown hair. Big hazel eyes. Giraffe eyelashes. Not an ounce of body fat. No bottom to speak of. But he is constantly in motion. And his motion is horizontal.
Every time I turn around, he’s doing forward rolls across the floor. The sofa. The bed. The table. The child is possessed. Getting him into his school uniform in the mornings is an exercise in repetition.
Flip, flip, roll.
Wobble, wobble, roll.
Ad nauseum. (Over and over, even.)
I cannot begin to explain how disconcerting all this rolling is. How intrinsically irritating. It is hard to put into words how the constant motion throws off one’s equilibrium.
In short, it’s driving me crazy.
My parents have taken to calling him Sir RollaLot. Yes, even when he visits others, he’s likely to roll through the door.
I know it will pass. The Yellow Wiggle phase passed. The Luke Skywalker light-sabre practice, complete with annoying buzzing sound, passed. The rolling will one day roll on, to be replaced by something equally inventive.
I suppose I should be excited. Constant practice has made him pretty good at forward rolls. World class, in fact. I can’t quite bring to mind a moment when this will come in handy, but one never knows.
I should probably just relax and enjoy the show. After all, they say that everybody’s good at one thing. This could be it.
Gorgeous! He sounds cute, funny and clever all ROLLED into one…sorry couldn’t resist! 😉
And I though the 3 year old mountain goat child walking along the top of all the furniture was annoying but yep… that would drive me nuts too!
Oh, is this meant to me funny, because I’m sorry Alison, Sir Rollalot, made me crack up. Good luck on the phase passing. If you ever write a sitcom though, you just know Sir Rollalot will have a starring part. x
That is fabulous! How marvelous to roll through life. Could you perhaps coat him with sticky-tape – sticky-side-out – and he could be your own lint roller for the floor? And after that, can I borrow him?
I love him.
Why walk when you can roll?
I’ve been thinking that Ivy will get less eccentric as she grows up. I’m reconsidering.
I probably shouldn’t laugh, but that’s so funny! Roll, roll, roll your boat….
Good luck with the next phase!
He’s still rolling?
Oh, and I laughed and laughed ‘cos I read your first line as “some days I plan to go out the window” and I thought “what on earth is she up to now?” rather than “I didn’t read that right, surely.”
Musing Dad – Pop, is that you? Oh dear lord.
Oh God! Has Dad taken to blogging? Musing Dad above sounds a lot like the coiner of the term “Sir Rollalot” lol.
I can imagine that Mr6 is driving you mad.
I think I had a similar stage when I was a wee thing, so your threshold may be skewed from then? I loved a forward roll. Not too sure I could pull it off now though.
I look forward (sorry) to this stage with Nugget.
His is a somersault roll
Mine’s a bacon and egg roll
Elvis’s was rock ‘n’ roll
Yours is a mother role
We all roll differently : )
hehe, I can see why that would drive your crazy.
He could have a promising career as a stuntman? There’s a practical application for ‘tuck and roll’ 🙂
He and Olivia would make a fine fair of acrobats….she is at a similar stage, complete with fancy little gymnastic demount poses. (Must be a girl thing? Waiting for applause?)
My six year old grunts. It means he understands something was said to him but is choosing to ignore it. “Put your shoes on” X 120 times is what you hear at our house.
Al, enjoy this phase, believe me they will constantly be replaced with new phases. Rolling is a lovely phase – it’s quiet, he doesn’t smell, he’s not being obnoxious. Wait until you get the “I’m not showering, washing hair or cleaning teeth for as long as I can” stage. It happily, not, coincides with the start of body odour. Give me rolling any day!
Isn’t it wonderful that they they can throw EVERYTHING into perfecting that one skill, then suddenly drop it and go on to something else!
Buy him a bull whip! Better still, a basketball hoop – at least that stays in one place.
My youngest really fixated on yoga and I loved it, though of course he was so good at all the postures with bendy-toy youthful joints. I taught him the inner meaning and Sanskrit names and chakras, and he was fascinated – it lasted for years.
I like your description of Mr 6 with the giraffe eyelashes. I can see him in my mind’s eye. The rolling would get to you after a while I can see.
Mine is all about the beat. Constant tapping, using every available surface as a drum, beatboxing, constant, constant. He slaps the walls, slaps the furniture. It’s inventive but please….make it stop!!
Haven’t done a forward roll in years. I wonder if I still could.
Oh, I’m so glad it’s not just me! I tried my first one in approximately the same number of years recently and nearly killed myself n the process!
My daughter has suddenly discovered the joys of rolling and more and has been setting up obstacle courses for us to maneuver through, leading me to do my first forward roll in more than 30 years yesterday. Glad to hear this is a phase that will pass as I’ve already reached the pinnacle of my gymnastic abilities with the last performance 🙂
I hopped over here from Stacia’s blog after reading her post today and am so glad I did.