Just breathe Momma…at least that’s what I tried to tell myself as I sat on a wooden bridge watching Zuzu frolic in the creek. Sounds simple enough. I never thought I would be a hoverer. But sadly, I was *that* parent at the party we went to last weekend. It was a fabulous party. The kind I want to give my sweet girls. The kind of outdoor adventure that I want the girls to think of as ordinary happiness…in theory. But there is this little nagging, worry-filled voice that sits in my head. Maybe it comes from a history of multiple miscarriages or the illness filled early months of my girls babyhoods. Maybe it comes from reading other people’s medical records and very sad outcomes from banal events every day. Maybe it comes from being 30+ weeks pregnant and continually worried about the fragility of life both within and around me. I don’t know the sole source. And I’m guessing it’s not just one thing.
But I had to walk away and let her dad keep an eye on her. I don’t want Zuzu to absorb my continual worry. As a toddler she was fearless and it charmed me because for the most part I could hover and expect her to leap and trust she’ll be caught by me. Now that she’s older those leaps are generally into the world rather than my arms. I still see that adventuring side of her. Notice how she’s walking on th slippery rocks in her cow wellies rather than the soft creek bottom where the mud and muck could keep her upright? I did. And from there my brain and heart leapt to images of her sliding off and her dear head taking their spot on those wicked wet rocks. And her name would be hollared out in a warning tone before I could stop myself.
So I watched as long as I could and then I stepped back to give her some space to breathe and run and play and let the calmer grown-up with less imagery haunting him take over. We will go back. It was a lovely spot, a good and refreshing spot to practice letting go.
Maybe next time I’ll join her in the creek…maybe…or maybe I’ll just practice being still.
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Oh Cole. This post brings back memories for me.
“So I watched as long as I could and then I stepped back to give her some space to breathe and run and play and let the calmer grown-up with less imagery haunting him take over. We will go back. It was a lovely spot, a good and refreshing spot to practice letting go.
I so feel you on the worrying. I can’t even imagine yet my dear one taking steps, as she is NOT much of a mover yet. Trust and fear… it is hard. Good thing there are daddies.