Hover

Despite the wilting Sunday heat, the Boy and I had a great time visiting with two very lovely ladies, Sage and Mme LaBrune. Although the state of washroom facilities in Toronto parks is deplorable. I had actually visited that exact washroom on my early morning run. In the course of less than a day, not only was the the toilet paper all gone (expected), but the toilet seat was removed entirely from the toilet (somewhat of a surprise). I, personally, don't want to touch a public toilet, much less exert effort removing the seat from the bowl. Still, there's nothing much more charming than a couple of two-year-olds shouting "Llama! Llama! Llama!!!" on the way to the zoo. Most of the animals were indoors due to the heat, but Mme L was captivated by the peacocks. The Boy - not so much. They were too loud for his newly tubed ears, and he wanted to see "somefin' else".

Sage and I were talking about her recent and my upcoming trips to New York, and I admitted something that rather surprised me. I am VERY much looking forward to going away, but the closer we get, the more apprehensive I am. I have never been away for the Boy for longer than a day, and although I trust my mother implicitly, the bottom line is: I don't trust anyone to watch the Boy as well as I (or Mr Earth) can. Yes, as much as I've scoffed and scorned at those mothers who are reluctant to let someone else care for their child, I think I am actually one of those moms. I am a bit shocked. I've always thought I was more of a here-take-the-kid-I'm-going-shopping-see-you-later kind of person, and out the door 2 seconds later. Have I been fooling myself?

The essence of the problem lies in the fact that I simply believe we know the Boy better than anyone else. Many times, I know what he's going to do or say, before he says or does it. For instance, 9 times out of 10, he can play on the play structure at the park completely independently. That 10th time though, he'll try to walk off the platform where there are no stairs, or go shooting head first down a slide that's way too big for him. That's why I'm not the mom who sits on the bench and watches him play from afar. I'm right there, climbing the stairs and sliding down slides that are way too small for me. I'm terrified of the 10th time. I'm terrified that other people - people who don't know him as well as I do - will feel confident in his abilities, and inadvertedly let him take that precarious step off the platform.

Although, I also wonder if I'm not somehow limiting him by being such a hovercraft. Maybe there's tons of things he could do, if only I wasn't watching out for every perceivable danger. Maybe what he really needs is time away from me to spread his wings and soar. But I will miss kissing that sweet cheek each morning, and feeling his Buddha belly against mine.