But, I don't "baby" my children. There have been times when I've felt guilty because maybe I should have babied them just a little.
When my children get hurt, there must be blood to qualify for a bandage. I know. I'm harsh. Some parents own stock in B*nd-Aid, I'm sure. It would be so easy to just slap a bandage on the child every time they invent a new injury.
When my children get hurt, 3 things happen:
- I congratulate the injured on their awesome wipe out. After all, if you're going to have a scar, it might as well be from something awesome. You don't want to be 36 and have a 3 inch scar on your shin from when you were 8 years old and a pop bottle fell out of the fridge and shattered on your leg. THAT'S not an awesome story.
- Clean up any blood, apply band-aid ( if qualification has been met) and kiss and hug and send them back out to play.
- Make a joke. Try to get them to laugh. It's hard to cry when you're laughing. (although it's fun to laugh so much you cry!)
Like I said, there have been times where I regret being so harsh. Like when we were at a birthday party, at a park. Jarrett came running over to me, crying. Hands on his head. I saw no blood, no broken bones. I dried his tears and told him to go back to playing. Later that night, as I was giving him a bath, I noticed the HUGE goose egg and abrasion on the back of his head. Guilt. Galore. But, he never told me what had happened, he never acted strange (saw no signs of serious head injury. I'm not so harsh/stupid that I would not notice that), never gave me any concern.
I like to think I'm calm and don't over react. I like to think it teaches my children that life can sometimes hurt. But, you gotta keep going. And, if you can, tell a joke and laugh.
Josie was cleaning her hamster's cage. Jingles was sitting in her carrying case, the one we use when she travels. (Don't judge. Josie bought it with her own money. Jingles has actually traveled 1 time.) Jarrett decided to stick his finger in to the case. He has small, old man hands and his fingers are kinda bony. Jingles got excited, I'm sure thinking his finger was a french fry, and bit him. Hard.
He cried. There was blood.
I said "Uh-oh. Go in to the bathroom and rinse it off."
Jarrett: "Cry, cry, cry." ( Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding)
Me: "You know, in the movie Spiderman, Peter Parker gets bit by a spider and turns into Spiderman. Maybe you'll turn into Hamster Boy?!!"
Me: "Here, dry off your finger. I'll put some neosporin on it. This is the same medicine I used on the cat last night (whole other story). So, now, maybe you'll turn into Cat Boy? Which would you rather be? Hamster Boy or Cat Boy? "
Jarrett: " Cat Boy. Then I can eat the hamster."
We both had a good laugh. He felt better. Kisses were exchanged and life went on.