I just got Wiley down for a nap, we'll see how long that lasts. I tried to lay him down alone in his crib but then decided that maybe I could get him to fall asleep beside me like he used to; wrong. Wiley is full of curiosity and had to check out everything around him, including the open drawer in the dresser that we use as a nightstand. I struggled to hold him to me but of course he managed to bump his head, just like I was afraid he would. After a minute I got him calmed down and sat him in his swing to fall asleep, which is where we are now.
But then as I went about my business I started to think about something that was said to me the other day. I hate that I haven't forgotten every stupid thing this person said to me. I allowed myself to be dragged into an internet argument with somebody who had horrible reading comprehension and who couldn't even figure out how they were contradicting themselves when it was pointed out to them repeatedly.
My initial disagreement was with this person trying to dismiss childless people's opinions by insisting that until you are a parent you can't possibly understand what it's like. I will disagree with that until the day I die, it is simply not true. Maybe for some people, but for many people it is not the case.
Years before I was ever pregnant I dreamed of having children, I would imagine my own children and just the thought of them made my heart ache with all the love I had for them. I've always been an animal lover, I was raised to be one, I have loved many pets. My pets were my children and I treated them in much the same way a parent would treat their own kids. No, it's not quite the same-- obviously I can't leave Wiley in a crate half the day while I go run errands (not that I'd want to), but my pets were and still are my babies and if you mess with them you will have to answer to a very angry mama. People told us what a life-changing moment it is the first time you see and hold your child, and it is, but it wasn't anything like what I was promised.
Of course our lives were changed, we were now parents. Where there had been two there were now three. We had both hardly been around babies and had very little idea what to do, but we managed and learned. Over and over we commented to one another about how amazed we were that they let us take him home with us. But there was no life-changing burst of love like many people had promised me. No, I already loved Wiley--before I ever knew him, before he was ever even conceived, I loved and adored this child. Do I love him more now than I did then? It's hard for me to say, I don't think I do... but at the time I was overwhelmed. Terrified of the c section, drugged up, my body that had been strong and capable 24 hours before hand was weak, shaking, swollen and sore. I was feeling so many things but when I talk with Patrick about the first few days it's obvious there was a lot of stuff I forgot.
During our disagreement I stated how I would educate my son on how to protect himself in certain situations. For that I was told I somehow live in a fairy tale world--not because I argued that I didn't need to protect my son and prepare him, their issue seemed to be with the extra work (very little extra) it would take to educate your child on what to do if they ever found themselves in certain situations. They couldn't be bothered and therefor my intentions were unrealistic enough to tell me I lived in a fantasy world of rainbows and unicorns (I didn't realize not trusting the world around you to be dangerous was so silly).
Finally this person, who had completely missed the first premise of my disagreement (the whole, stipulations on who can understand love) added more requirements, informing me to come back to them when I had a ten year old because with my logic every bump and bruise he ever received would be my fault. I don't know how my logic lead her to that conclusion, it was completely incorrect, but it has stuck with me just in how ridiculous the statement was.
Or was it?
Yes, stating that me saying I will prepare my son by teaching him how to handle dangerous real-life situations is the equivalent of any accident he finds himself in being my fault is ridiculous. Kids get hurt, it's what they do and I don't expect to keep Wiley from it.
But the more I think about it, the more I think how in a way they were right.
We will love, protect and educate our son as best we can. We will do our best to be responsive to his needs so that he knows he doesn't have to worry too much, we will be there to help and catch him when he falls. According to attachment theory we will be his secure base.
I've already started to see it. The little baby who I once held in my arms and who wanted nothing more than to sleep beside me is seven months old now and squirming to get out of them. He loves our dog, sometimes I think more than me and Patrick both. I hang him upside down, dangle him over my legs and toss him in the air. There was a time when I was nervous about doing these things (not to say that I'm not careful), I still feel a bit uneasy even watching Patrick play this way with Wiley though logically Patrick is probably the safer of the two of us just in terms of strength and grip. He wants to explore everything, he wants to get into everything and he seems to bump his head on a regular basis.
I remember the first time he bled, I was trying to cut his fingernails for the first time and instead of getting his nail I also got part of his thumb and left a small cut, then a day later he hurt his head. We were at Railroad Park and he needed a diaper change. We didn't have access to a diaper changer so we decided to change him on a park bench. Right as I was almost done setting him down he pulled away from me and knocked his head. Even though we had a blanket laid out he somehow managed to cut open his forehead. I was horrified and blamed myself for it. He calmed down almost immediately when I held him to me but I was mad at myself for days.
This little, inquisitive boy has now managed to pull himself out of his bumbo and bump his head on the floor. He's managed to hit his head on door frames, the soap holder in the bathtub and just now the nightstand. Sometimes I'm involved, other times he manages by himself. Still, I've stopped feeling so bad, so worried. I still respond immediately to his cries, but a part of life is learning to pick yourself back up from a fall.
The truth is, in a way it will be my fault because my son will have the confidence to explore the world around him while knowing that when he needs us we will be there to comfort him and pick him back up. Accidents happen regardless, of course, but an accident doesn't have to be the end of the world as much as something to learn and grow from. In fact, accidents are often what lead us to our greatest accomplishments. How many failed prototypes does an inventor have to have before they finally get it right?
While I know this to be true, I also know that I haven't lived my life that way. Even as a kid I can think back to multiple incidents where I was cautious. I still did my own dare-devilish things, I guess. I managed to break my collar bone even. But I also wasn't always willing to jump in to situations where I thought I might get hurt, even if my friends were doing it. The truth is, I let fear hold me back. Even in cosmetology school I struggled with a fear of messing up, mistakes were fine for others but not for me.
I don't want that for my son. I want him to know that there is a great, big world out there for him to explore. To know that, he has to fall, he has to get bumps and bruises and learn to pick himself up and brush himself off. He has to learn that sometimes he's going to fail or fall and it may hurt but it doesn't have to be permanent. Yes, he'll have to learn from his decisions but he'll also never be alone. We will be here to support and love him and do what we can to help (within reason). And when he's ready to brush himself off and get back out there we will still be here, cheering him on and waiting for the next time he needs us to be his support team.
If I can raise a son brave enough to go out fall, get back up and try again, so be it. I'll accept the blame.
