How Blessed I Am, Part Two

6 07 2010

kids in a pool

Recently we visited a friend who had a smallish pool in their backyard. I was concerned about this pool before we even arrived since my son doesn’t swim at all, and, while he’s tall enough to stand up in it, the middle was too far away for me to be able to grab him if he lost his footing. I was offered a life vest, but honestly, I thought that might do even more to upset his balance in the end so I let him go in without it.

Earlier that same week, I’d read this article that several moms I know posted on Facebook. It’s a good article – it doesn’t induce fear, instead it aims to empower you with information about what drowning really looks like. I wasn’t all that surprised to learn that it’s nothing like it’s portrayed in the movies, but I didn’t know what it did look like and I’m glad I do now.

I bet you can see where this is going. Don’t worry, everyone is fine. Totally fine. I just have mild PTSD.

At some point, my son did, in fact, lose his footing in the middle of the pool. And his little body reacted just as the article had said it would. Somehow, I knew which side he’d move towards and I headed to that side of the pool, grabbed his arm and set him on his feet. He sputtered, cried, and then got pissed. I mean. His hair was wet. Worst thing ever. The whole thing lasted only seconds and he was so completely fine right away. He even spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool. (I spent the rest of the afternoon breathing deeply and shaking.)

Immediately, I began to question myself: Was that foresight, or did my fear manifest the incident? A good friend assured me it was intuition and I know she’s right. Intuition combined with common sense is a powerful thing. As though reading my mind another friend suggested it was my fears that made it happen, but I don’t believe that is what happened in this case and here is why: my fears have dissolved. In my experience with unhealthy fears, they only grow stronger with incidents such as this. But here I am, my heart is light and my mind is clear. My son is fine, I saved him and I could do it again. I am no longer afraid to let him go in this pool (although the concern based on common sense remains).

Blessings: The internet. My intuition and common sense. Comforting friends. My son’s very life.

What a beautiful life.


How Blessed I Am, Part One

6 07 2010

A few weeks ago we met some friends at our favorite sprinkler park. I’m not sure if it’s because we were there longer than usual, or if the sun was somehow closer to the Earth that day, but my daughter ended up with a fantastic sunburn. I was pretty angry with myself for not being more careful about reapplying the sunscreen and I referred to myself as a bad mommy. I was joking, but I guess all jokes have that grain (or barrel of grains) of truth in them and she picked up on that.

“Mommy,” she told me, “You won’t allow me to talk bad about myself, so please don’t talk bad about you.”

And how could I argue with that wisdom?

She has always had a strong mind of her own, but I see more and more how receptive she is to hearing my thoughts on things. Not only does she listen, but she applies it to her own world in ways that surprise me for a girl so young.

Recently, she has also been embracing her inner feminist. She decries all Disneyesque princesses and tries very hard to not like pink (although she is visibly torn). The whole thing is terribly cute, but my goodness it makes me proud of her.

I’m blessed to have her in my life. I can see already how much I have to learn from her, how much I already have.