I honestly don’t know if this is supposed to be a serious post or a funny one.
Some days I’m completely overwhelmed by the insane amount of close calls these kids have. You know, the times that if your child was just one inch closer, he would have slammed his head into the corner of the wall. Or the times when you go to grab your toddler a tissue and return to him bouncing up and down on the couch in front of a hard, hard coffee table.
I’m by no means a helicopter mom. I don’t run to coddle my kids over every little boo boo. I encourage independence and let them figure things out when it’s appropriate. And I know they’ll get hurt.
But dang, it seems like every few seconds I’m saving one kid or the other (or BOTH!) from impending disaster.
What frightens me is that all it takes is one second for a fun afternoon to turn into a trip to the ER. Or one misplaced step to a big fall. Or one inch closer to a broken bone.
I remember when Little Roo was a few months old, I was picking Big Roo up from daycare. As we were coming out of the school, a friend was coming in and stopped to hold the door open for us since I had an infant carrier in my hand. I barely uttered a “hello” before Big Roo darted up the sidewalk and towards the street. A busy street.
I was about to chase after him while holding the infant carrier but he was too quick. So I sat a clueless Little Roo on the sidewalk and started speed-walking towards Big Roo as I firmly asked him to come back. With a giggle, his kiddy run became a kiddy sprint. So I bolted, catching him before he ran into the driveway that leads down to the school.
Whew, that was close.
And those “that was close” moments continue everyday…
… when I walk over to pick up a toy and turn around to see 14-month-old Little Roo standing on the coffee table (he doesn’t know how to get down yet).
… when Big Roo spontaneously jumps off his bed and narrowly misses the chair.
… when Little Roo falls JUST FROM WALKING and lands a millimeter away from the door frame.
… when Big Roo grabs Little Roo from behind, squeezes him and then just lets go as Little Roo falls back like someone doing one of those team building exercises. Luckily I manage to catch him before he hits our hardwood floors.
… and on and on and on.
When I look back on MY childhood, I remember the times we got hurt. I never broke a bone but I do have a four-inch scar on my right leg from a fall that happened when I was ten. It makes me wonder how many times my parents saved us from those near misses.
Now I look back at most of my childhood “I-got-hurt” stories and tell them with a smile and sometimes even a chuckle. Because they were mostly minor things that were just part of growing up.
It’s almost comical how many times those near misses happen.
For now, I’m just gonna strap on my supermom cape and continue to play rescuer to my kids. And knock on wood. And pray that they stay “near misses.” Maybe I’ll even chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Maybe.
So tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way! Please?