Last Friday, my son Justin sustained a small cut on his right forehead while playing in the living room. His daddy and nanny were both there, and I was inside the bedroom working (Note: My son doesn’t know I’m working inside our room; he knows I work in the office and that I leave for work everyday. See my post“Working from Home.”)
Justin was picking up his toy blocks when his forehead accidentally brushed against the square metal handle of the wooden cabinet that doubles as TV stand and living room accessory. He was hurt, judging by his loud cry. He had every reason to be. The cut bled slightly, and that part of his forehead that was hurt swelled somewhat. Justin’s dad told his nanny to apply cold pressure on the pained spot, but all that action ever did was make Justin cry even harder.
That night, when all three of us were in the bedroom, I told my husband that perhaps the reason why they (my husband and the nanny) weren’t able to prevent Justin from getting hurt was because both of them were so engrossed watching one of his recently bought DVDs, too hooked to even notice what Justin was doing. I actually said that with an accusing tone, which annoyed him. I got dressed down for that remark, which served me well. Yes, it was wrong for me to accuse when I wasn’t even in the scene when it all happened.
But I was only concerned about my boy. Nothing pains a mother more than to see her child getting hurt or bruised or having to suffer any feelings of discomfort. I would have been a more relaxed mom if I could protect him from all of those.