World of Hurt

From the moment Baby Z was born, his Papa and I have spent countless hours thinking about how to protect him from world. Although our new parent paranoia has settled down a little, we still spend a lot of time worrying and working to keep Baby Z from getting hurt. Since Baby Z really started moving around, I have come to terms with the fact that Baby Z will knock his head, cut his lip, smash his fingers, etc. Of course, I try my hardest to prevent these bumps and bruises, but I am not alarmed when something happens like this morning, when Baby Z finally reached into the bathtub far enough to fall in. The good thing was that there was water in it, so he splashed and sputtered more than bumped and bruised. The better thing was that I was right there, watching closely, so I got to him before he inhaled water or worse. (Didn't our grandparents' generation do that kind of training on purpose?)

Like I said, I have come to terms with the physical risks of childhood. But I am not yet ready for the emotional dangers. Baby Z is fairly secluded from other kids (not by choice, necessarily). He goes to the nursery every Sunday (with only 1 other kid at most) and the young kids room at my Moms' group every other week. Besides that we only have the occasional meeting at the park. The few times we have gone, I have to say we've run into some not so nice kids. Nothing major with no harm done (Baby Z is either easy going or too young to figure it out yet), but it's given me a hint of what is in store when Baby Z does play with other kids.

Before you think I am naive or dumb, or both, I should say that I understand intellectually that the world is a fallen place full of sinful people, myself included. Kids can be the cream of the crop in brutish behavior because not even social norms have polished their rough edges, let alone any sense of moral obligation. But. All it takes is one kid who snags the swing just as Baby Z is heading for it and I am no longer philosophical. I'm just pissed. And ready to kick some 9-year-old-who-should-know-better butt!

Okay, so I'm sure it will get easier. How many times did Baby Z eat something on the floor before I stopped freaking out about it? So I'll just have to be a Mom about it and help Baby Z through the emotional hurts just like the physical ones. And I'm sure I'll really enjoy the day I get to be a Mom when old-enough-to-know-better Baby Z tries to take a swing from a toddler.