So, once upon a time, da Creature was fearless. I mean, breathtakingly, terrifyingly, FEARLESS. As a toddler, he would climb to the top of the 5 year old play set and if you made eye contact (just don't make eye contact), he would automatically assume that if he jumped from the six foot high platform, you'd catch him. Right? Didn't seem to matter that you were ten feet away from him, you'd catch him, so it was perfectly safe to leap bodily into the air and hope for the best.
Those days are gone, and it's bittersweet. No longer is he fearless. He will still walk off a precipice, in a heartbeat, but now he is also afraid. It makes me sad. However---we managed, in our 20 minutes of adventure last night before he decided it was "too hard" and just flopped on the mat in a pathetic whining heap, never to rise again without the aid of litter-bearers and trumpet fanfares (oh, the drama of it ALL), to get him to do THIS:
See the hand on the left side of the picture? That's da Sister, WILLING him to stay on the wall. About two seconds later, she had to catch him as he decided that was enough of that, but it was a very cool moment in the life of my little guy. Here's how he got there:
Go da Sister! We managed to get him up the wall. A thousand little victories over SPD later, we'll have him married, with children, holding down a great job, and loved by his community....
All it takes is making him get off the mat and keep trying.