to decide I don't have the stomach for motherhood?
Katie and I were at the mall today to jump and play in the toddler play area (big surprise, it was raining and therefore unsuitable for a trip to the park). So, we aren't there five minutes when, as Katie is standing atop a soft block square, basking in the glow of her climbing accomplishment, another kid (boy, of course) tackles her at the knees and knocks her to the ground. The event goes apparently unnoticed by everyone but she and I and as she is not hurt, I try to laugh it off and encourage her to reclimb. She does and a few minutes later I see the kid coming at her. Without enough time to intervene, I can only watch as she is thrown, ricocheting off the smaller soft blocks, to the ground. At least this time the male adult chaperone saw what had occurred also and he was quick to apologize, but not as quick as I was to show fangs, extend claws and growl, "Yeah, well, that's TWICE!" So he retorts something partially unheard that ends with, "of course, he's only two so, you know..." Mother Bear was reduced to impish cub in moments. I don't even know what he said but I could feel my face redden and I was blinking back tears. For the next... hell, I'm still... replaying the scene and wondering, did I over-react? Was I just bitchy? Is this the kind of thing I should except and accept by letting Katie play with others?
I just think it's a parent's responsibility to watch your kid to a) keep them safe but also b) make sure they aren't infringing on the rights of others (or going after a small girl like a linebacker). Am I wrong? So then I'm watching Katie play and some other toddler scrambles over the barrier wall and sets off for the far side of the mall. His mother hasn't looked up from her laptop since she sat down and I found myself torn between running after him or at least alerting the mother and keeping quiet and letting Little Missy Whatserface learn herself a right lesson. I opted to sit back and observe, mostly out of immaturity and flagrant self-righteousness. When she did finally realize he was gone, she still appeared nonplussed. She stood, scanned, located and sat back down. He was still across the mall!
When Katie came over to me, performing some rhythmic hand-beating on the bench, twisted her hand and thumb in an unnatural position and winced and I was the one to let out an audible cry, I decided it was time to go. We'd had enough fun.
So I'm second-guessing my ability to handle the minefield that is motherhood. I was incensed, aghast and reduced to tears at someone else's injury all in the span of less than an hour. Last night a program had me in hiccuping, chest-heaving, all-out bawling as I watched a brain damaged woman try to remember her daughter and her daughter's resentment at having to visit the mother's rehab hospital. (Alright, maybe that one deserves a few tears.) I give myself a free pass. But can I do all this feeling and hurting and loving with another kid? I'm overwhelmed.
Perhaps its the hormones?
Because, clearly...stomach is not something I'm lacking these days...