Trust Exercise

What do you all think of my move to WordPress? So far it rocks my purple Converse off. Anyway, on to something worth reading for once.

My daughter has a new game in which she stands on the coffee table and jumps into my arms as I sit on the couch. She does this sometimes with no warning while I am doing important things like checking Twitter. I know. Parenting 101 C+.

And damn, but Leila is fearless. And trusting. It does not occur to her that I will not catch her. I can look her in the face and say, “Leila, be careful, Mommy could miss. Mommy could drop you.” In return I get blank doe eyes and probably a hug and a snotty (real mucus) kiss. Because she trusts me. I mean dog-worthy trust, people. She hasn’t figured out yet that Mommy can fuck up. When I make a parenting mistake (Usually losing my temper and doing something every book and expert says will scar your child for life.), she doesn’t realize it. I might make her cry. I might cry. But she doesn’t understand that we are crying because I fucked up. In her world Mommy is perfect because all she really needs, I provide, and the only thing that really registers is that I love her.

But someday when she is self aware and has some control over her own life’s timeline, I am going to fuck up, and she is going to realize it. I may apologize. I may not. It won’t matter. I will no longer be an infallible force for good in her life. OK, I will still mainly be a force for good, but I will no longer be perfect. I will be human.

We’ve all had to go through that moment in our lives. At some point our parents became human to us. It’s part of growing up. I accepted it and grew as a person when my parents fell from their pedestals. (Heck, my father leapt off his and hasn’t looked back.)

But as a parent on the other side of the situation? It sucks.

4 thoughts on “Trust Exercise

  1. Yeah — that trust thing with her . . . I really wish she were a little more dubious about people. She’ll do that to me, walking on the stairs. I’ve caught her every time.

    But, um, Leila is always going to know that you love her – even when she fake cries into her palms, she knows that you love her. ‘Cause making sure of that, well, that’s what a good parent does.

    • I know, but I like being infallible to someone. I will be sad when it ends. Though CJ may think of me like that forever. I hope not. That makes dating hard.

  2. Oh the unconditional trust of a child.
    It’s wonderful and heartbreaking and scary.

    Such a huge responsibility.

    The stakes are getting high for my kids these days. They’re in middle school so they no longer jump off high objects into my (hopefully) waiting arms; but they do trust me (I think) to set boundaries to keep them safe; to help them navigate the murky waters of adolescence successfully (while simultaneously pretending to leave them alone).

    In other words, the fear on our part of being their protector?
    It never ends.

    Which is the worst and best part of parenting, I suppose.

    • I am way more scared of adolscence. I pretty much know how to deal with their simple toddler dilemmas. Teenagers have real world problems I never figured out. Scary stuff. I plan on watching you very closely and taking notes.

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