Those of you out there who know me know that my tendency towards parenting is a very practised nonchalant attitude. Those of you out there who know me well will know that this tendency is simply a veneer on a deeper, chaotic, far more muddled and confused attempt at parenting. This is something that I probably share with the majority of parents in this world -- other than those of you who are perfect of course.
I suspect that all parents out there are familiar with some variant of practised nonchalance. The one that springs to mind is, when your child is in the middle of some form of activity that is likely to result in tears rather than in laughter, and you've warned them at least four times, and they've shrugged off this warning with the indifference that only seven years of experience can bring. My standard response is, "When you cut off your leg, don't bleed on the carpet."
This week saw one of those type of events. Home from school, eaten lunch, done the homework, time to play. Outside with dog and sticks. Long sticks. Sticks that became swords and then converted into light sabres which were occasionally used as battering rams.
At some point in time the safety catch on one of the sticks failed (not sure if it was in sabre mode or long sword more). It viciously attacked my little boy, breaking the skin and resulting in a very dramatic and impressive amount of blood. There was no crying out or sobbing. No yelling for help. Instead a rather sombre and subdued soul made his way into the house, blood streaming from the bridge of his nose, (but not onto the carpet!). A quick wipe with a cold facecloth and a cuddle and all that was left was a cut, proudly borne.
That was the end of the sword play for the day. Living and learning through experience hurts.
My learning involved seeing how close the injury was to the eye. I wanted to cover him in cotton wool and lock him away from the world, saving him from further real and potential injury. But I know I can’t do that. Scrapes and falls and tears and blood are all part of life and learning. It is all experience, but that does not mean it doesn’t hurt (and scare) Dads too.
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