PlayIsTheWork.com

How many of you out there are perfect moms? Come on, anyone? There have to be at least a few. I know at times I have felt that holier than thou feeling of being just one step ahead of my peers in the parenting game. After all, I’ve read everything from Spock to Sears and everything in between. Books on getting my children to be great sleepers, on potty training, on manners but most of all on safety. I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a freak about safety. I would even admit that I worry to a fault. It’s a bit of a reoccurring theme in my life. Ever since I was blessed with these two small beings, I’ve had that “not on my watch” attitude that somehow sets me free. I’ve convinced myself that my kids would not be the ones that you read about, the ones that disappear in the shopping mall. To this day, my vigilance is scary even to me and my worry is even more debilitating. It’s something I hope my children aren’t completely aware of even though I’m sure they notice the pitch of my voice change every time they’re running head long down the path by our house that opens into a blind street corner.  
So you can imagine my horror and dismay at seeing pictures of our friend Britany Spears with her 8 month old in the back of the convertible practically slumped out of his forward facing car seat. And the reports of her almost dropping her baby as she tripped on her “too long” Seven’s most likely because she was balancing a big fatty, Starbucks Mocachino in her other hand. You can only imagine what goes on at home and you have to wonder, with all that money you mean to tell me she can’t afford a bit of good council on the baby care front? I was having a conversation with one of my good “mommy” friends about this the other day and while we both had a big laugh at Britany’s expense, I had a not too distant memory flash before me.
When my daughter was about a year old she began to walk. Coincidentally, this was right around the same time that we had our basement redone into a playroom complete with built in shelving and a gas fireplace to keep the place warm. Being from the Midwest, we never had “gas”—only wood and I was completely inexperienced with this device. We had intended to put a gate around it but within 24 hours of the thing being turned on we had our first serious injury. My toddling daughter toddled right up to the glass and flattened her hand up against it. I swear I must have turned my head for less than a minute before I heard the screams. My poor child had second and third degree burns all over her hand and I didn’t stop crying for a week. Every time I changed her bandage, I reminded myself of what a failure I was at keeping my children safe.
I’m certainly not perfect as the “fireplace” incident demonstrates. I’m sure we’ve had our share of eating something out of the garbage or off the floor as well. While I do think Britany needs some help (maybe a bit of common sense to go with it) let’s all try to give her a bit of a break. She’s a first time mom trying to figure it out. She’ll get better at it just like hopefully we all do. At least she’s not dangling him out of a window. So the next time you watch one of those media reports and have a good laugh at her expense, just remember just about every adult I know has that little scar under their chin that must have bled forever—where’s yours?

Posted on May 22nd, 2006 by Sam
Filed under: Uncategorized