Just call me 'Grace'

I'm feeling pretty stupid today.

I fell.

Again.

I have a bad case of rolling ankles. Usually, I can catch myself before I fall, but every so often - every couple of years, something complicates the catch, and I don't make it. I had to stop carrying Jack on my shoulders after I fell while carrying him twice in six months. Thankfully, I managed to roll him off my shoulders and up on top of me as I fell both times, but I just couldn't count on being able to do that again.

This time, who knows what it was. Maybe I was carrying my handbag and lunch box in a way that unbalanced me. Maybe I tried to right myself while stepping on a stone.

Whatever it was, I wasn't able to get my feet under me, and down I went. In the past, I have had scrapes and bruises to content with for a week or so, but it was never more serious than that. This time, though, I really messed up my ankle and I have been having spasms in my back and stomach in addition to the usual scrapes and bruises. I think that amounts to "Getting older". I know that as small children, we bounce pretty well and as we get older, we get less resilient. I don't think I fell any harder than usual -- I just didn't bounce this time.

Worse, this means I have had to fill out an accident report at work because I am limping like an old wreck, and I foolishly answered the question "Where did that happen?" As it happens, I was on company property, waiting for Rod and Jack to arrive. Company policy says that every accident on company property, regardless of the cause, has to be reported officially.

Ick.

In brighter news, Jack is still very much enjoying chess.

Rod is still helping Jack to think through his moves, but he is also having to really work to win. They played for three hours again yesterday, and Jack wasn't ready to stop when Rod finally got him in check mate. It led to a meltdown. Jack lost it and then refused to speak to Rod for several hours after it was all over.

It seemed to us that it was less about "being a poor sport" than it was that he had taxed his young brain to the breaking point and while the exertion was exhilarating, it was also exhausting. When it ended so suddenly (from Jack's point of view), it took him a long time to recover and he didn't have words for what, exactly, he was feeling so he retreated into sulking. All was well by the end of the evening and Jack went down to check that everything was OK with Dad before he could sleep last night.

I think he will learn to see the bigger picture rather than focusing on the move at hand and the end won't come as quite such a shock to him. He will also get his synapses stretched so that he's not working quite so hard when they play and that will help his resilience, too.

Oh, and Jack has started holding forth on history, explaining to us all about the Romans and the Gauls and the Barbarians. It's kind of amusing to hear his oversimplified, but basically correct, view of history. It's not unlike "the history of Europe, as written in letters to the newspaper editor".