I was also a very lazy child. I refused to walk until I was almost five and forced my mother to push me around in a pram stroller that looked as follows:
As my mother walked pushing the pram, people would smile and look inside, expecting to see a baby. Then, they’d see a 4-year-old and become scared.
“Your child must be very sick if she doesn’t even sit at this age,” they’d say compassionately.
“Oh yes,” my mother would respond grimly. “Her disease is called laziness.”
Clarissa's Blog 
How is this even normal?? You posted a picture of the exact stroller I was going to get you if you ever had a baby!!!
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I’m not even surprised. 🙂
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She just let you do that? I don’t even remember using a stroller. I actually had trouble walking at first because I had weak ankles and had to wear special booties, but the doctor just told them to take me to the beach and let me walk barefoot on the sand, because that would build up my muscles. (We lived in Miami and went to the beach all the time.) I think I was walking fully before I was a year old, if I remember what my parents told me.
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I remember my first steps, actually. Although nobody believes me. I was about 1 yo. 🙂
“She just let you do that?”
– Such small children only do what their parents need them to do.
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Yeah, it sounds like she indulged you because then she could be a martyr mother to a “spoiled” child. “Look how I slave for this child. Don’t you feel sorry for me?” I’ve seen it too often. Fortunately for me my parents came from a background where spoiling a child was the worst thing you could do.
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“Yeah, it sounds like she indulged you because then she could be a martyr mother to a “spoiled” child. “Look how I slave for this child. Don’t you feel sorry for me?” ”
– I had an entire bunch of adults who were this way around me. It’s a miracle I managed to stand on my own two feet by now.
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I tried that on my mom at that age too. She didn’t let me get away with it, though.
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It means that yours wanted you on your feet and independent. Which is great.
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I had a different problem when I was 2-3 years old. I would run in the opposite direction to where we were going, so my father had to run back to catch me. To save their energy, my parents decided it was easier to just carry me at all times. Must’ve been hell – I was a fat toddler!
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My parents put me on a leash at that age for the same reason.
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