Thursday, March 06, 2008

Just another day...

The weather is mild and my forsythia is blooming, along with the daffodils and primroses. We’re having a drought, and the farmers are looking at the sky and clucking worriedly.

My daughter and her friend went outside to walk the dogs, and her friend fell and sprained her ankle. It's always worse when it's someone else's child. Mine don't seem to get into scrapes, but I've had to drive several of their pals to the emergency room for stitches or plasters. One girl fell and snapped half her front tooth off, which was probably the worst thing that happened. Another time we took the kids and their friends to a miniature golf course - and of course it's the friend who gets whacked on the head with a golf club (not by anyone we knew - the kid went to another hole to see what was going on.) And each time I was frantic with worry and wishing it had been my kid instead! If it was my kid, I wouldn't feel so awful or like I was supposed to watch them every second, because my kids know that I'm a very 'hands off' mom, who always lets them go on hikes, ride bikes, climb trees - alone. I usually wave as they set off, (with the dogs in tow) and wait for them to come home. So I tend to do the same for their friends. "Sure, go out and walk the dogs - see you in a while." And then here they come five minutes later, the friend with scraped hands and a swollen ankle. (Off to check - I made her sit and put ice on it - yes, still swollen but not turning blue or anything.)

I'm such a bad mother that I forget to have my son's stitches out. He asked me when he should have them out and I'd Completely Forgotten he'd had 3 stitches! (he had a mole removed) No big deal - so I forgot. If there's no huge cast, you can be sure I'll forget. So I took him to see my friend Catherine (a nurse) and she snipped them out and laughed at me for worrying. But I can't help it - as a bad mother I must always worry that my neglect is going to make my kids
A) Hate me
B)Become Independent.

In the best of worlds it would be B, but I'm always worried about A.
I'm a bad mother because I am sitting here blogging instead of hovering over the poor girl's ankle, but as she's laughing with my daughter, I can be forgiven for thinking she's all right. She keeps breaking off to cry out dramatically "Ow, My Ankle!" but I think that is just theatrics, and since she's been enrolled for three years in a row in drama class, I tend not to take her very seriously. (Just an aside here - why do most people take actors so seriously? They are Actors! They dramatize, they excel in theatrics, they are HAMS.) I don't take my children very seriously when they scream "Mom, he killed me!"

My daughter has another friend coming over to stay for a couple days, and I’ve decided to be more careful. We’re going to the public pool tomorrow morning, and there are five life guards on duty there during vacation, so I should be all right.

PS we just got back from the pool and all the kids are accounted for and fine.


Ordinary Girl said...

You're kids aren't going to hate you, but they will become independent, which is a fine thing.

I was the fourth in my family and I like to joke now that my parents were too tired to really raise me. It wasn't that they weren't strict (they were very strict), but they let me be independent, which turned out to be a very good thing.

Most people don't believe me when I tell them I'm the youngest because I'm headstrong and independent.

Gabriele C. said...

Lol, my mother couldn't see blood and was always glad when I just told her I needed a plaster or a bandage, without ever checking the damage. I've taped several wounds that ought to have been stitched, never got a cast for sprained ankles and stuff, and when a neighbour drove me to hospital for stitches once (he was right, it was a mean cut), I took them out myself a week later because I didn't bother to see a doc for such a small nuisance.

Maybe not seing docs a lot is the reason I'm still in good helath. That and garlic. *grin*

John Nez said...

I think by the time they get to be teenagers that nobody can actually supervise them anymore... no matter who's child it is... nobody is capable of supervising teenagers!

They know more than I do... about everything.

Rosie said...

Sam, I so relate to this post. I worry even when I know all the reasons I shouldn't. My husband likes to make me feel better by saying, "There are lots worse mothers out there than you."

What!? Yeah, lots of help, huh? My boys seem okay so far, but I often wonder into the future if they will be declining Thanksgiving invites because of the time when...

So your words are a comfort. I'm NOT only one. Maybe things really are okay.

Bernita said...

~sobs quietly~