AUTHOR: Carolyn Savage | POSTED: February 18, 2014 | COMMENTS: 3 Comments
CATEGORIES: 1015 The River, Blogging Honestly, Food on the Fly, Glass City Parent, perspective, Recipes, Resilience, thankful,
Yesterday held a mixed bag for me. It was a planned day off from school and in attempt to do something outside the four walls of our home I schlepped the kids to the other end of town with the promise of some fun at a Lego play center. After a forgotten purse, a trip back home and then back to Lego land Reagan vomited on the sidewalk right as we were getting out of the car. She was car sick because I had dressed her too warmly and should’ve adjusted her clothing when the 15 mile ride became a 45 mile trek.
All my fault!
The entire episode got me thinking about all the times in my almost twenty years of parenting that I’d screwed up. I’ve forgotten to sign permission slips and packed my kids the crappiest of lunches because I had nothing of substance in the cupboards. Once I lost seven year old Drew in the Orlando airport, and when the boys were three and five I thought they had lice and shaved their heads only to learn the next day they had dandruff. When Drew was an infant he fell off the couch twice because I didn’t know he could roll over.
TWICE! Apparently I had no idea how it happened the first time.
Honestly, I could go on and on about how, due to my preoccupation, absent-mindedness or just plain stupidity, I’ve put my kids in less than optimal situations.
Not too long ago I was lamenting to Drew about losing him in the airport.
Me: Do you remember it?
Drew: Yes. I got on the tram before you and you turned around and the doors shut and off I went.
Me: Do you remember what you thought when that happened?
Drew: Um. Yes. I figured I’d get off at baggage claim and wait for you. It wasn’t rocket science, Mom. I was fine.
We went on to talk about some of the other mom fails that are so deeply embedded in my memory. He laughed off the crappy lunches because apparently he traded most of it away. He has no memory of having a shaved head and was just glad to know that he never had lice as a child. He does remember me tripping him with my purse strap as he left our church pew to take up the gifts during his first communion mass but apparently it didn’t scar him…although he’s never taken up the gifts again. And, he thinks that maybe his two falls off the couch as an infant are the reason he can’t do a back dive.
In the end his general consensus was “No harm, no foul. Now stop worrying about it. It’s done. I survived.“.
Ever since the moment I found out I was pregnant with Logan I’ve thought about how badly my fertility doctor felt about what had happened. Devastated doesn’t even seem to capture my doctor’s emotional state on that first evening. I remember the immediate days after finding out about my mistaken pregnancy and worrying about the professionals responsible. I knew there had been no malice. No one had done this to me on purpose. I also knew that they hadn’t gone into their professions to cause this kind of emotional strife. They wanted to help families—not hurt them—yet there we all stood.
It was an awful mess.
Five years have since passed and although I’ll probably never say, “no harm, no foul” about what happened, I’ve learned a little something about forgiveness from my kids. Although my parenting misteps have probably–at times–negatively impacted the trajectory of their days, they are resourceful little souls who take life as it comes. They move forward as best they can dealing with the deck they’ve been dealt.
“Stop worrying about it. It’s done. I survived.”
When I put Reagan to bed last night I gave her some extra back-scratch cuddle time trying to ease my guilt from earlier in the day. For some reason God has been so good to me by allowing me to parent my five children. I often don’t even know how to articulate how grateful I am for my life, and when I screw it up I get so down on myself because I want to be worthy of being the person my family deserves. I’m guessing a lot of mothers feel this way at times. That’s when I think it’s imperative to realize that the only thing we can do after a screw-up is vow to learn from the mistake and do our best to never to let it happen again. I communicated that message to a fertility doctor a few years back. It’s probably time I took my own advice to heart.
“Stop worrying about it. It’s done. They survived.”
A few pics from our weekend…