When my little sister was about 6 months old, a few months older
than our Emma, she managed to crawl herself into the pool, toppling
head-first into the water.
When my little sister was about 6 months old, a few months older than our Emma, she managed to crawl herself into the pool, toppling head-first into the water.
I’ll never forget the look of fear that washed over her face. Her eyes froze as her mind worked frantically trying to figure out what had happened. Luckily, she floated and my dad scooped her out of the deep end within seconds.
I see that same look of panic and fear in my daughter’s eyes at times. And I’ve come to realize one the deepest frustrations felt by parents: Sometimes you can’t make it go away.
Two weeks ago, Emma’s dreaded two-month doctor’s visit was upon us. I knew it meant two shots in each leg. I told myself it was going to be OK, that it would be over within seconds. But when she finally got her shots, I don’t know who cried harder, Emma from the pain or me from watching my little one suffer.
I soothed her and she was calm again within seconds. But I know that as difficult as it was to watch, this experience was just a warm-up for harder times ahead.
How will I console her when she is teased on the playground or some thoughtless boy breaks her heart or when she’s homesick away from home for the first time?
And even when your children are grown, you still yearn to protect them from any unpleasantness and pain.
When I was 19 away at college, my computer suddenly and inexplicably crashed. I frantically called my father, who without a moment’s hesitation drove 40 miles to save it. Because of him, my computer was restored, and I got an A on my paper.
Last week my mom watched helplessly as my sister recovered from emergency tooth surgery. She had to have her wisdom teeth pulled after contracting an infection in her gums. She skulked around the house for weeks, scowling from the pain, crying silently while my mom stood nearby trying to soothe her.
It’s so hard to watch when your child is in pain and knowing there’s very little you can do to take it away.
I know I won’t always have the answers to the tough questions that our daughter asks. I know I won’t always be able to think of the right words to say when she is feeling blue. I know I won’t always be able to remove the sting when someone says hurtful things to her.
I know I can’t save her from everything. And perhaps I shouldn’t try. I wouldn’t want her to miss out on experiences that could shape her or enable to learn from her own mistakes.
When my husband, Chris, was just starting high school, he tried out for the football team. Of course, his mom wanted him to have nothing to do with the sport. He would surely get hurt, but she acquiesced and Chris played football.
Of course, a couple of months he did get hurt, a minor injury, but one that landed him in the emergency room nonetheless.
“She drove me to the hospital. She was there even though she knew I would get hurt,” Chris told me.
So, how do we know when to help out and when to step aside? And when we do try to console, how will we know just the right thing to say?
I guess the best we can do is teach our kids to float and scoop them out of harm’s way when we have the chance and we are lucky enough that they allow us to.
