Worry lines
The day she was born my first thought was, I will never be without worry again in my life. At that point, “my life” was a very long time to worry. Nearly 19 years later, I still believe that I will never be without worry. I thought it would take longer to get to this point. At the time, it seemed like I would never survive it. None of the worries that I have had, looking back at them, seem so earth shaking or life altering, but I know that they have shaped who we both have become.
They started out small, thank goodness. Is she still breathing??? Yes, of course, right there in her crib where she belongs. Will formula now and then be a bad thing? Immunizations: yes or no? As she grew, so did the worries. She teetered around the house cracking her head on everything that was too big for her to put in her mouth and possibly choke on. I always thought that babies should be attached to bungee cords that were hooked to the ceiling. That way they could fall but never hit the ground.
Then there came that fateful day at the park when she slid down the ladder of the slide. Not quite two and weighing about as much as her new baby sister, Trinity slipped on the top step. The second she slipped that slide grew from 4 to 45 feet high. She bashed her little face on every one of those 800 rungs. As I ran to her, I could see the blood pouring out, as I grabbed her I noticed it was bubbling from her mouth. Oh my God, internal injuries, punctured lung. Off we went for our first trip down the terrifying halls of the ER. That is where I learned that it is seldom as bad as it seems. That only helped a little as three nurses and I held her tiny arms, legs, head and torso while the doctor stitched her mouth back together. How could someone so tiny be so strong? She pushed and writhed and finally he was finished. Trin sat up, I sat down. Actually I kind of passed out. The danger had passed, the adrenaline was gone and I was used up. We spent the rest of the day huddled together on the couch. Me thinking, this is only the beginning of this ride, how am I ever going to survive it. I was right about that bungee cord wasn’t I.
Trin learned how to get her little sister involved in her escapades too. Like the day she and Hailey were playing in the fenced in yard. They were two and four years old. I ran into the house to grab something, came back and they were GONE!! There was no way they went out the gate, no place for them to go under. After finding them in the neighbor‘s fence having a great time on their jungle gym, I discovered that Trinity had found a low hanging branch, pulled it down so that it hit the top of the fence and made the fence fold down. The two of them made their escape, the fence popped back up and they were gone without a trace. Oh my God, now it was worry times two! Bungee them to a stake in the yard!
We did survive it with just more minor worries for a few more years, but the bigger ones loomed as she walked down the hall for that first day of public school (public???should I? home school????), both of us had tears streaming down into our beaming smiles. This is a good thing, a great day, right? I worried all day if she was making friends, getting picked on, being understood by her teacher. And, oh my, when that first paper came home; a note from the teacher scrawled in the corner saying “color inside the lines.” I think that was when I first realized what I was up against. For the record, the assignment was, in fact, to color inside the lines. But the teacher got to listen to my philosophy on squelching children’s creativity and independence by criticizing their works of free expression. This kind of thing became pretty common place in our lives. By now there were three little worrybugs running around the house and I was getting pretty good at balancing the whole thing. Poor Trin though, being the oldest, she almost always experienced mommy’s freakouts first. It was like I could learn how to handle them through her and then it wasn’t so bad for the other two. Ah, but when they were the first to pull a new worry out of the hat, Trin got to sit back and watch the fun unfold. Sometimes I think she even instigated things so that she could see how I would react.
I learned over the years to take a breath first, panic second. You have to do this because it might be hours before you breathe again and you are going to need some oxygen in your brain to think through it. Using this approach I made it through her going off on trips with friends, walking by herself to the park, learning to drive (I still don’t handle that very well), sneaking around with boys, not doing well in school, making some bad choices, making some good choices (but hard ones for mom to accept) and finally (after doing much better in school) her graduation.
Now, I always had it in my head that even though I knew I would never be without worry, graduation would be some big fireworks like explosion into the next level. I kept waiting for it to hit. She walked across that field and we screamed and waved, making every effort to be the most embarrassing family in the stadium. I stood there with tears rolling, kind of like they are now when I think about it, but nothing else happened. Nothing was different. I was still mom and she was still Trin with the little grin and deepest dimples in the world.
Then she moved out. This is it I thought, there will now be a clear line between my life as this kid’s mom and what is to come. But nope, nothing happened. She lived 6 miles away and I could always check up on her. I had reports coming in daily from all around town. One night Ed came home and said, “Trin got cut tonight.” Deep breath first; panic second. How bad was it, did she have to get stitches, where is she? No, it was just a misunderstanding; she got cut from the schedule and left work early. After I chastised him, I realized that worry was still there, just as strong as ever.
Last month I loaded Trinity and all of her belongings that would fit in my car and drove her to my sister. Trinity had a great job opportunity in Sarasota and my baby girl was moving away. We spent 24 hours pushing and pulling, both of us wanting her to take this step, and both of us wanting her to just get in the car and come home with me. Worry was not going to leave me. She is fine, she is safe, she is with her aunt (well, maybe there should be some worry over that), and she has the best possible opportunity in front of her. So I backed out of the driveway and came back home. I don’t know what I expected when I got here. I just thought that something would be different, waiting for that fireworks explosion that never came. I’m beginning to believe that it is never going to come. There is never going to be that one day, that one moment when worry just blows up and goes away. There is never going to be a day when I’m not Trinity’s mom who frets all of the time and tries not to show it. The one who encourages her to take those great long strides off the edge all the while I’m panicking and wondering why she isn’t wearing a helmet. Somebody get me a bungee cord now!
But today I’m realizing that though there will never be a big worry bang where it all goes away, all kids do come with a bungee cord. It isn’t attached to the ceiling and it won’t keep them from falling down or getting hurt. It is just a line woven from years of worry and when they need their mommy, they just need to give it a little tug.
They started out small, thank goodness. Is she still breathing??? Yes, of course, right there in her crib where she belongs. Will formula now and then be a bad thing? Immunizations: yes or no? As she grew, so did the worries. She teetered around the house cracking her head on everything that was too big for her to put in her mouth and possibly choke on. I always thought that babies should be attached to bungee cords that were hooked to the ceiling. That way they could fall but never hit the ground.
Then there came that fateful day at the park when she slid down the ladder of the slide. Not quite two and weighing about as much as her new baby sister, Trinity slipped on the top step. The second she slipped that slide grew from 4 to 45 feet high. She bashed her little face on every one of those 800 rungs. As I ran to her, I could see the blood pouring out, as I grabbed her I noticed it was bubbling from her mouth. Oh my God, internal injuries, punctured lung. Off we went for our first trip down the terrifying halls of the ER. That is where I learned that it is seldom as bad as it seems. That only helped a little as three nurses and I held her tiny arms, legs, head and torso while the doctor stitched her mouth back together. How could someone so tiny be so strong? She pushed and writhed and finally he was finished. Trin sat up, I sat down. Actually I kind of passed out. The danger had passed, the adrenaline was gone and I was used up. We spent the rest of the day huddled together on the couch. Me thinking, this is only the beginning of this ride, how am I ever going to survive it. I was right about that bungee cord wasn’t I.
Trin learned how to get her little sister involved in her escapades too. Like the day she and Hailey were playing in the fenced in yard. They were two and four years old. I ran into the house to grab something, came back and they were GONE!! There was no way they went out the gate, no place for them to go under. After finding them in the neighbor‘s fence having a great time on their jungle gym, I discovered that Trinity had found a low hanging branch, pulled it down so that it hit the top of the fence and made the fence fold down. The two of them made their escape, the fence popped back up and they were gone without a trace. Oh my God, now it was worry times two! Bungee them to a stake in the yard!
We did survive it with just more minor worries for a few more years, but the bigger ones loomed as she walked down the hall for that first day of public school (public???should I? home school????), both of us had tears streaming down into our beaming smiles. This is a good thing, a great day, right? I worried all day if she was making friends, getting picked on, being understood by her teacher. And, oh my, when that first paper came home; a note from the teacher scrawled in the corner saying “color inside the lines.” I think that was when I first realized what I was up against. For the record, the assignment was, in fact, to color inside the lines. But the teacher got to listen to my philosophy on squelching children’s creativity and independence by criticizing their works of free expression. This kind of thing became pretty common place in our lives. By now there were three little worrybugs running around the house and I was getting pretty good at balancing the whole thing. Poor Trin though, being the oldest, she almost always experienced mommy’s freakouts first. It was like I could learn how to handle them through her and then it wasn’t so bad for the other two. Ah, but when they were the first to pull a new worry out of the hat, Trin got to sit back and watch the fun unfold. Sometimes I think she even instigated things so that she could see how I would react.
I learned over the years to take a breath first, panic second. You have to do this because it might be hours before you breathe again and you are going to need some oxygen in your brain to think through it. Using this approach I made it through her going off on trips with friends, walking by herself to the park, learning to drive (I still don’t handle that very well), sneaking around with boys, not doing well in school, making some bad choices, making some good choices (but hard ones for mom to accept) and finally (after doing much better in school) her graduation.
Now, I always had it in my head that even though I knew I would never be without worry, graduation would be some big fireworks like explosion into the next level. I kept waiting for it to hit. She walked across that field and we screamed and waved, making every effort to be the most embarrassing family in the stadium. I stood there with tears rolling, kind of like they are now when I think about it, but nothing else happened. Nothing was different. I was still mom and she was still Trin with the little grin and deepest dimples in the world.
Then she moved out. This is it I thought, there will now be a clear line between my life as this kid’s mom and what is to come. But nope, nothing happened. She lived 6 miles away and I could always check up on her. I had reports coming in daily from all around town. One night Ed came home and said, “Trin got cut tonight.” Deep breath first; panic second. How bad was it, did she have to get stitches, where is she? No, it was just a misunderstanding; she got cut from the schedule and left work early. After I chastised him, I realized that worry was still there, just as strong as ever.
Last month I loaded Trinity and all of her belongings that would fit in my car and drove her to my sister. Trinity had a great job opportunity in Sarasota and my baby girl was moving away. We spent 24 hours pushing and pulling, both of us wanting her to take this step, and both of us wanting her to just get in the car and come home with me. Worry was not going to leave me. She is fine, she is safe, she is with her aunt (well, maybe there should be some worry over that), and she has the best possible opportunity in front of her. So I backed out of the driveway and came back home. I don’t know what I expected when I got here. I just thought that something would be different, waiting for that fireworks explosion that never came. I’m beginning to believe that it is never going to come. There is never going to be that one day, that one moment when worry just blows up and goes away. There is never going to be a day when I’m not Trinity’s mom who frets all of the time and tries not to show it. The one who encourages her to take those great long strides off the edge all the while I’m panicking and wondering why she isn’t wearing a helmet. Somebody get me a bungee cord now!
But today I’m realizing that though there will never be a big worry bang where it all goes away, all kids do come with a bungee cord. It isn’t attached to the ceiling and it won’t keep them from falling down or getting hurt. It is just a line woven from years of worry and when they need their mommy, they just need to give it a little tug.
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Comments
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Very sweet!Posted 10-20-2008 at 04:37 PM by aleonard
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Great insight BMR- you've managed to make me laugh & cry at the same time. Love your writing!
Posted 10-21-2008 at 12:51 PM by sunspotbaby
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