These are two anecdotes from our summer which seem to show that the "protection" we offer our children is somewhat of an illusion
We were enjoying some family time at the playground, when out of nowhere my eldest daughter started crying. "It feels like something hard hit me, Mom!" I rush to her side to inspect the situation, but find nothing out of the ordinary. "Was it sharp like a sting or hard like bonking into a table?" I ask, trying to validate and understand her feelings while suspecting that she was being dramatic (again). "Hard!" I suggested some ways she may have gotten hurt without realizing it, but she was adamant that something hit her.
A few minutes later, I heard a "plop" nearby, but by the time I turned to look there was nothing to see. I looked up into the clear blue sky to be sure there weren't any walnut trees nearby. Or clouds raining meatballs. There was nothing. I heard another "plop" and walked over to where it seemed to be coming from. As I walked, I saw an arm swing out around the nearby school building.
"Someone is over there throwing rocks at the playground!" I yell to my husband. He marches over with an air of vexed curiosity. After some time, he returns and explains that there were a few kids that had run away when he approached, but he followed and confronted them. "I don't know which one of you did it, but one of you hit my daughter with a rock," he told them.
A few minutes later, these kids (who were not even in middle school yet) came over and approached my girl to tell her they were sorry. They hadn't meant to hit her and certainly didn't want to hurt her. ("What did you think would happen when you blindly threw rocks in the direction of a playground?!" I wanted to yell, but didn't.) "Thank you for apologizing and please don't do it again," was all that I could muster. I was proud of their courage to confess and apologize. I was thankful they hadn't thrown any harder or chosen any bigger rocks. And I was stunned that such a thing could and DID happen in a nice little town like ours.
I spent the rest of the evening wondering how I could have handled the situation better. Should I have tracked down their parents to tell them what their children had been doing? Would I want someone to tell me if my kid did that? Would it do any good? Should I have lectured them myself? Who is going to stop these kids from becoming bullies or punks when they're older? Why do children have no sense of cause and effect?!
***
Ellie was nervous to go to the dentist for the second time in her whole little life (anyone else feel like 6 months is entirely too frequent? we're doing yearly instead. The dentist doesn't know, because I just passive aggressively refuse to schedule the next appointment), but she seemed comforted by my promise to be with her the whole time. When the hygienist called her back, she informed us that she'd like to see if Ellie can get her teeth cleaned all by herself. "If she needs you, we'll come get you," Miss Sam promised me.
Do I insist on going back with her because I promised my girl that I would? Or do I let her learn that even Mama isn't really in control and that even a four-year-old can conquer her fears? I knelt down and asked her if she could try it, even though it wasn't what we had planned. Ellie stared down at her toes before taking the slightest, most tentative step towards the hygienist, who ran with it as full consent and pushed me back into the waiting room before my sweet baby could turn back and change her mind.
I was nervous the whole time, and so relieved when it was over and Ellie declared that she had had fun (even though the dentist called her "baby" and talked in a weird voice). I apologized for breaking my promise to stay with her the whole time. "It's okay, Mom. They said they'd come get you if I needed you." (Hallelujah, she understood!)
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