Put a Mom in Charge

I consider it my sacred duty as a mother to be ready for all sorts of emergency situations, be it a torn pair of pants or a scraped knee. All moms feel the same.  However, when said parent has an anxiety disorder, the "emergency" becomes more bloody and horrific.  We can't help having visions of our precious offspring suffering some terrible malady, and we will do anything in our power to avoid such an occurrence.

When my son began to play soccer, I realized that various injuries were highly likely.  After all, soccer involves a bunch of kids running after the same ball in a swirling mass of legs and arms, trying to score goals.  Eyes get poked, ankles get turned.  What parent wouldn't be worried about that?  

The best way to alleviate anxiety is action.  Instead of being paralyzed by the vivid images in my brain, I started planning. When Zane was younger, I planned on those instant cold packs and band aids for the sidelines.  Since three year old Zane was of the opinion that an ice pack solved every ill, we were good. 

As Zane has become older, however, I've had to plan the first aid kit out more carefully.  In addition to situations requiring an ice pack or a band aid, we now have to concern ourselves with bug bites, allergic reactions, dirt in the eye, broken or sprained limbs, heatstroke, bloody noses, annoyed referees, and the occasional broken shoe lace. There's also the mud that gets on your cleats and makes a kid feel like they are running in quicksand. 

I have not sat idly by, nursing my anxiety.  I may not be able to rush out on the field when my child is hurt, but I've made sure to pack the most ridiculously comprehensive first aid kit in recreational soccer history.  At least that's what I think.  I was prepared for pretty much everything.  I've even got thermal blankets in there, too, in case someone goes into shock.   I spent one morning organizing and packing everything into a special container, labeling each bag with the contents, so my husband, who does get to sit on the sidelines near the players, can find what he needs quickly.

Except for the fact that Larry doesn't know the first thing about first aid, we're golden. 

But this exercise made me think that perhaps there were other areas in life where moms should be in charge of the planning and organizing.  In addition to first aid, moms should probably be in charge of other situations that require such preparation.  Maybe emergency management?  A mom would be able to stock up on everything needed to prepare for just about every situation.  How about managing the large crowds at a football stadium.  Moms might not be able to do crowd control, but they can spot areas of concern in an instant and they know how to fix the problem.  Moms do a lot of on-the-spot problem solving, and they should get credit for that. Whereas a man tends to be initially stymied by surprise occurrences, moms just wade right into the situation.

Maybe what this world needs is more moms in charge?    

The Holder of All Things

Last Friday found me at my son's school for Field Day.  Most Field Days at elementary schools involve races and other feats of athleticism.  However, since this is San Antonio, and it is Fiesta time, Zane's Field Day was more about the party, and less about athletics.  As I waited around for Zane's class, I was thinking of food, which is what I do with my free time, now that I don't have chemotherapy.  There were several booths offering sausages, hot dogs, nachos, cookies, and sno cones.  Normal Fiesta fare, except not at 8:30 in the morning.

Then the students came out, each class dressed in a different color shirt for easier location.  I found Zane's class in time to hear Zane's teacher pairing the kids off so that they could meander the fair together.  Zane spotted me and attached himself to my side.  He also brought several of his classmates. The group of us wandered about, with the boys running from the cart races, the bouncy castles,  the tattoo booth, etc.

It began simply enough; one of the boys asking me to hold on to his jacket.  No problem, I told him, wrapping it around my purse for safekeeping.  We wandered around some more, and then the boys decided that they wanted to try one of those fishing games where there are clothespins on the line.  Each boy got a little bag of treats on their line.

And what do boys usually do with the extras they collect along the way?

They give them to their moms. If their mom isn't handy, they give the item to the person closest to matching that description. That was me.  I suddenly found myself carrying five tiny bags of goldfish crackers along with a jacket.  Then the boys wanted something to drink, so they went to the drink booth.  They all sat along the curb, drinking their Gatorade, until they decided on their next activity.  But none of them had finished their drinks!

Guess who got to hold those?
 
I also held napkins, empty sno cone cups, spoons, and other items over the course of the two hours I was there.  As I followed after the boys, my arms loaded down with the detritus of five little boys, I finally had to laugh.  I was a Mom.  This is part of motherhood, carrying the burdens of others. We have that kind of bond with our children.  I carry my son in my heart, and I guess that means I carry all the other things he will encounter as well.  Sometimes those burdens will be as easy and simple as sno cone cups and little bags of goldfish crackers.  Other times, the weight will end up being heavier.  I hope those times are few and far between, but whatever happens, I'll be there.


That's my job. Mothers are the Holders of All Things, be they heartaches... or Gatorade. 
 

Super Mom

 Note: I had a few computer issues yesterday, so this post was delayed. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. 

I am of the opinion that most mothers are superheroes.  Being a mom, I might be a little biased.  It's just that I know what women have to go through to become mothers, and it's downright humbling.  Labor alone puts us into the "death-defying" category.  And then we have this little life in our hands.  Moms rescue their children from all sorts of things, from kissing boo boos to hemming a prom dress at the last minute. We do it all without the expectation of gratitude from our progeny.  What could be more heroic than that? 

I've often imagined having a super mom power.  When we are running late, I wish for super speed, like the Flash to make up for time lost looking for the soccer shoe that mysteriously ended up in my briefcase.  When it is late, I'm tired and there are still things that need to be done, I wish for super energy, or at least Jean Grey's powers to move things around with my mind.  When my son is upset and wants me to pick him up, I wish for super strength, like Superman.  When he wants something that is on a shelf that I can't reach, I wish that I could stretch a bit, like Mr. Fantastic.  When I feel that my boy is being harassed on the soccer field, I wish for Wolverine's claws to show up, just to encourage better behavior. Lots of little moments, small incidents, when having a particular superpower would be a boon and not a burden. 

If I could have an actual super mom power, however, I think I would wish for the ability to occasionally stop everything around me, like Professor X can do.  Life seems to be happening so fast, and my son is growing so rapidly that I am sometimes afraid to blink.  I would like to be able to just stop...and savor the moments for a bit longer.  His first night home. His first steps. His first day of school. Milestones that have slid past as quickly as water moving downstream, and they're around the bend before I know it, the next milestone approaching quickly. I know that I can't keep him from growing up, or myself from growing old, but to be able to halt this mad dash of Time for brief intervals would be enough.
 




4.) If you could have any super mom power, what would it be?