Thursday, February 5, 2009

Their Newest Way to Torture Me

After almost 8 years of motherhood to one boy and almost 6 years of motherhood to two, I thought I had adjusted.

I thought I had adjusted to their non-stop 60 mph speedometer.

I thought I had adjusted to their inventive minds that convinced them a pile of pillows would cushion a fall from any height.

I thought I had adjusted to their belief that turning a sheet into a cape would enable them to fly.

I thought I had adjusted to their inherent need to seek out danger, with calls of "Look, Mommy," ensuring I was a witness to every daredevil stunt.

I thought I had adjusted to the fact that boys will be boys even as I stood over them shouting warnings of, "Be careful," and "You're going to break your neck."

I thought I had adjusted to the indisputable fact that I could not stop them from experiencing life (especially when their main "life" encouragement came in the form of a 5'11" boy that just happened to be their father), and that I would survive their antics until they reached adulthood simply by closing my eyes and leaving the room.

I thought I had mastered this quandary of raising boys when I am a worrier by nature.

I thought wrong.

Enter the new phase of my life - boys playing on thin ice.

And if that wasn't bad enough for a day's fun, add to it boys playing on thin ice walking through these terrifying babies:

But I figured out how to solve that problem fairly quickly. I just yelled out the names of spooky things found in sewer pipes and that did the trick.

And as I watched them test the ice with a stick to see if it would hold them, and they rolled their eyes and told me that even if it didn't hold them the water would only come up to their ankles, I heard my own mom's voice in my head and the worries came pouring out of my mouth. "You know never to do this alone, right? You know that just because it looks frozen doesn't mean it is? You know that the edges may hold you but the middle may not? You know if you are on ice for some reason and it starts to crack, you should spread out on your belly so your weight is distributed. You know to never, ever walk out on a frozen pond right? RIGHT???"

And I heard their giggles as they dismissed me and I closed my eyes and turned away, knowing that they needed this fun, this life experience. I knew their dad was with them. I knew they were safe. And I prayed that when they are older and I am not with them when the danger presents itself, that they hear my voice in their heads as clearly as I hear my mom's and it guides them in the right direction. And for any boys reading this, that would be away from danger, not toward it.


Kathy said...

I can sympathize. My kids love the ice too. I just wish it would all hurry up and melt!

Unknown said...

Raising boys is such fun huh?! I am a little jeaous though, I have to beg my boys to go outside and play. They think it is too cold outside, I try not to agree with them :)

Loth said...

Knowing how fascinated my two are with ice, I am sort of grateful that we hardly ever get it and even then, only in puddles!

CandCFamily said...

Yikes! That would send my heart racing, too.