Not On My Watch

My daughter had her first big stumble. She’s almost 3, so i’ve been lucky. I also feel fortunate that it wasn’t necessarily on *my* watch. As a mom you are always on watch, but she was left in the capable hands of my husband while i walked a mere twenty yards away. This was too far in her mind and despite the husband’s , “No, come back here.”s, she is a girl with her own mind. A toddler who doesn’t listen ?!!


She was so determined to find me that her flip flops and a mere steep concrete sidewalk were not going to stand in her way.

Well, they did get right in her way. In the way of her face hitting the asphalt. She came up with a scraped eye, two scraped knees, smaller scrapes on one elbow and her shoulder. Tough cookie that she is, she kept wiping the tears – the salty tears – down her road rash eye and all she cried about were her cut knees. That’s what hurt. 😦  My little Helga. My husband felt terrible and I had an interesting dialogue running through my own head.

On one hand, i felt bad for the guy. No one wants to see their kid hurt and feel responsible. She has run from me plenty of times. Once straight into a men’s bathroom.  But thankfully none ended in mahem. So when he was berating himself, I was sympathetic out loud. Out loud. But in my head i was kind of on board with what he was saying. Hey, my baby got hurt and as a momma bear, that doesn’t just roll off my back, or her eye. I was kind of the same mind that maybe just saying to a 2 year old, “hey, come back here” might not be sufficient intervention. Maybe you have to physically intervene.

But that’s me admitting that i have an inner dialogue while my husband is speaking to me. Something other than a bobble-head ‘uh huh, honey’.

She’s fine, though. The weird thing to me was he wanted to show her her face. Things were going along just fine, the magical ice pack that never really touched her skin in any of the scraped areas for longer than a nanosecond seemed to do it’s job. She was moving on. He comes in and asks me, “Have you shown her in the mirror?”

um, no. no i haven’t . You know what else i haven’t done? Opened up the curtains and plastered my face against the window just to see if a strange scary man was staring back at me. I also haven’t walked up to a crocodile and put my head in it’s mouth just because the guy tells me it’s trained.

Why show a 2 year old a big round scratchable, pokeable silver-dollar sized scrape right next to her eyeball ?!

Men are weird.

On a completely separate note, it’s official that my neighbors have unfriended me so to speak. I had a moment a couple weekends back when there was a big shindig going on for the husband’s birthday bash. There were lots of people over and I just thought, “Oh well. Don’t know them that well anyway. No offense taken.”

So today i was out back with my kids. They were playing in our splashy splash pool making lots of noise. No misunderstanding we were outside trying to avoid having our skin melt off our faces being in the un air conditioned house during this North West heat wave. As we were playing, i hear the neighbors and a few other neighbors in the back yard behind us. They were having a grand time in their above ground pool, music playing, and a jovial jolly old time.

I told myself during the past few shindigs they had it was no biggie, we haven’t run into them a whole lot due to school schedules, but the summer has begun, school is out, the other neighbors have been over, and not a peep has been uttered over the back fence to me. It’s just odd. It’s odd that i care, first of all. It’s odd that i had the reaction of, “Oh yea?? Watch me move away and then you’ll be sorry!”

which they wont. obviously.

And then i had a very distinct high school feeling of being left out. And i mulled over in my head over and over every time i raised my voice to my kids and it possibly carried over the yard and into their hearing space. Maybe i offended them…. but it’s hard to tell with all the yelling and screaming they do with their own kids. Did i walk in front of a window immodestly? Was it all my bootylicious rump shakin’ ? I burned those thongs months ago, so it couldn’t be that! I make sure my mom picks up the dog poop out of the yard… maybe they are against elderly indentured servitude?

Why am I trying to figure it out? I should just let it go. They don’t owe me anything just because their yard is directly below mine… and they used to invite us over… before the mom stopped saying hello and waving to me and pick up and drop off.. and the one time she nearly dove behind an aisle to avoid me at Target.

I have no idea. So i’m trying to leave it at that. Their loss. It’s been a while since i have had my feelings hurt by someone other than my own kids – but at least i know where that has come from.

It’s sort of refreshing to know that i still do have feelings!

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