Umbilical Cord to Independence
A friend was describing her day at Locarno Beach and how she witnessed a toddler fall into a pond. As the mother was pulling her child out and stripping off his wet clothes and then wrapping him in warmth and love, she was saying, “I was afraid of that”.
The incident reminded me of the time our daughter, at the age of 2 or 3, fell into one of the ponds at Peace Arch Park. Her hair was floating to the surface and she was making no effort to raise her head above the water or swim to shore. I pulled her up by her pony tail and then wrapped her in my jacket, hiding my tears as I held her close. It was all over in a matter of seconds although it seemed like forever. I was afraid that she would be terrified of water after this. Most likely I made a joke about how it was a little too early in the season to be swimming, and next time she should put on her bathing suit first.
This flash back led me to others:
Another daughter, at the age of 2 ½, fell off some playground equipment and broke her collar bone, while we all stood around and watched her hit the ground. I wasn’t close enough or fast enough to catch her. Again, time slowed and my body seemed to move in slow motion as I tried to reach for her.
Our son, at the age of 18 months, wandered into the kitchen while I was washing the floor and fell backwards into the basin. The water severely burned his back, arms and legs. His diaper saved his genitals. He had a 3 day stay in the hospital, hooked up to an IV, having his dressings changed regularly. I didn’t need the nurse’s lecture to make me feel like a negligent mother. She needn’t have told me that I should have checked the water temperature before letting my baby anywhere near the kitchen where I was working. She didn't need to say that I shouldn’t have been trying to clean up while my 3 children (ages 4, 3 and 1 ½ ) were up and about.
Our youngest daughter is the “stitch queen”. In her toddler years, she was bitten by a dog in the face, hit in the forehead by a rock thrown by her brother, fell backwards off a chair banging her head on a metal piece and lastly, almost severed her uvula, (the dangly thing at the back of the throat), while running and then falling with a stick in her mouth. I’ve lost count of how many stitches she has had.
These are just a few examples of when I took my eyes off our kids for a minute, with disastrous consequences. I will never forget the times that I failed to rescue them before injuries occurred. Those years of imminent physical danger are past. Our 4 beautiful children are all grown up now. However, in some ways these years are more difficult to parent through. Now most of their peril is emotional, spiritual, or mental.
It doesn’t always work to hug and kiss the hurt away. I have to let them find their own ways through, being supportive but not interfering, loving but not smothering. If I’ve done my job right, my kids have the tools to embrace, or move through, or rise above the pain, or disappointment, or danger of everyday life, whichever way they see fit, in whatever way works for them.
The incident reminded me of the time our daughter, at the age of 2 or 3, fell into one of the ponds at Peace Arch Park. Her hair was floating to the surface and she was making no effort to raise her head above the water or swim to shore. I pulled her up by her pony tail and then wrapped her in my jacket, hiding my tears as I held her close. It was all over in a matter of seconds although it seemed like forever. I was afraid that she would be terrified of water after this. Most likely I made a joke about how it was a little too early in the season to be swimming, and next time she should put on her bathing suit first.
This flash back led me to others:
Another daughter, at the age of 2 ½, fell off some playground equipment and broke her collar bone, while we all stood around and watched her hit the ground. I wasn’t close enough or fast enough to catch her. Again, time slowed and my body seemed to move in slow motion as I tried to reach for her.
Our son, at the age of 18 months, wandered into the kitchen while I was washing the floor and fell backwards into the basin. The water severely burned his back, arms and legs. His diaper saved his genitals. He had a 3 day stay in the hospital, hooked up to an IV, having his dressings changed regularly. I didn’t need the nurse’s lecture to make me feel like a negligent mother. She needn’t have told me that I should have checked the water temperature before letting my baby anywhere near the kitchen where I was working. She didn't need to say that I shouldn’t have been trying to clean up while my 3 children (ages 4, 3 and 1 ½ ) were up and about.
Our youngest daughter is the “stitch queen”. In her toddler years, she was bitten by a dog in the face, hit in the forehead by a rock thrown by her brother, fell backwards off a chair banging her head on a metal piece and lastly, almost severed her uvula, (the dangly thing at the back of the throat), while running and then falling with a stick in her mouth. I’ve lost count of how many stitches she has had.
These are just a few examples of when I took my eyes off our kids for a minute, with disastrous consequences. I will never forget the times that I failed to rescue them before injuries occurred. Those years of imminent physical danger are past. Our 4 beautiful children are all grown up now. However, in some ways these years are more difficult to parent through. Now most of their peril is emotional, spiritual, or mental.
It doesn’t always work to hug and kiss the hurt away. I have to let them find their own ways through, being supportive but not interfering, loving but not smothering. If I’ve done my job right, my kids have the tools to embrace, or move through, or rise above the pain, or disappointment, or danger of everyday life, whichever way they see fit, in whatever way works for them.
posted by Mo at 11:02 PM
2 Comments:
Nice piece, Mo. Reminds me of how many near misses I've had while tending young children, though not my own. It really is amazing that so many of us survive childhood. It is such a dangerous place. And, I want to hush that lecturing nurse. As if you needed that for an innocent mistake that cost you so much.
PS - I fell backwards into my mother's scrub bucket when I was a toddler, too, and went tumbling down the front porch steps. I think I was just lucky that she was so far along with scrubbing that the water had cooled beneath the scalding point. I'm sorry your son was hurt.
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