My littlest boy, Ted, woke the night before last. Like me, he loves sleep so this was unusual. His cry was pained, he seemed disorientated, kept putting one hand over his right ear. I scooped him into my arms and rocked him, he cuddled in and seemed a little comforted.
We gave him medicine, he spat it out. We brought him downstairs, sat him on the sofa under a blanket, offered him toast and jam. We watched videos on YouTube together. He cheered up.
Sometimes I forget how small they are, how vulnerable. He's usually the tough one - falls down, dusts himself off, gets up and hurtles off for more fun and rampaging. I forget. He needs me.
Brace yourself for a sob, but this poem says it all, all there is to say about being a parent. I thank my lucky stars.
My boy is sleeping safe in bed
Without a tumour in his head.
No hepatitis, septicaemia.
No lymphoma, no leukaemia.
His heart is strong, his breathing sure.
The marrow in his bones is pure.
No ADD, MS, ME,
CF, MD or HIV.
We drove him safely to his school,
And back again. He swam the pool
Untroubled, laughing, loving it.
No seizure, stroke or fatal fit.
No aircraft engine yet has failed.
No train come lethally derailed.
He moves from trampoline to tree
To bicycle, to skate and ski,
Unharmed, unruffled, innocent.
No injury. No accident.
He sleeps. We sleep. Another day
Is passed in ease. We made more hay.
No horror here, no sudden shark.
No plunge into the depthless dark.
No slip from sunshine into sorrow.
But there’s always tomorrow.
Always tomorrow.
by Mike Reed for Dog Ear Magazine
I think that poem is incredible sad and also not how I want to live my life as a mum. I do not want to hold back my children through fear of what may be. In fact Maxi turns eight tomorrow and I have been writing a blog post about it and one of the things I love about him is his fearlessnmess.
ReplyDeleteHi Jen, that's so interesting - I really didn't read it that way. To me, it's more about the awareness you have as a parent of all the possibilities, good and bad, that could happen to your kids, while they are completely unaware and free of that burden. I suppose it's the knowledge of how precious they are rather than a constant fear that something bad could (and might well) happen. But reading it back, in the light of your comment, I can see that it does seem a little fatalistic!
DeleteMy Ted is fearless too. Part of me loves it but part of me is terrified by it. Last week he ran out into the road and a car had to brake to avoid hitting him. Although he might have plenty of lives left, I'm rapidly running out of them and my nerves are a wreck! Looking forward to reading your post about Maxi's fearlessness, sounds like I could learn a trick or two x
oh my life. that poem is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteOh Lottie, how thought provoking! Thank you so much for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThat poem made me shiver. They are so little, and so precious, and they do need us. And I thank god daily that mine are healthy, vaccinated, well nourished, safe from the horrors of war. Recent stuff about children fleeing Syria had me in tears.
ReplyDeleteGillian x
What a gorgeous little boy you have. I just stumbled upon your blog and you have some beautiful pictures. Lovely blog! Love Elle xo
ReplyDeleteThe poem absolutely sums up being a parent!
ReplyDeleteMy 22 month old Kate is so full on all the time, fearless and loud and happy that when she was ill and quiet a couple weeks ago it really frightened me. She also has curls just like your Ted.
ReplyDeleteYep, all fears I've had. I don't let it stop my children from doing any of it, but I'm the one who suffers with worry while they're at it!
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