When I was at Girl Scout camp one of the activities on the first night was that we were supposed to stand on a picnic table and free fall backwards and let our cabin-mates catch us.
I went last. And I bent.
Know what I mean?
I bent at the waist — so some unfortunate girl got the brunt of my bony bottom.
When I was in high school, a boyfriend asked me to do that same thing — fall backward and let him catch me.
I didn’t want to.
He argued with me and said it was the true trust test.
In the middle of the argument, I said, “Okay, fine, here I go.”
And I fell flat onto the grass.
So what I’m saying is — that game sucks.
And also, trusting people with my own self is hard.
Trusting people with Tom is near impossible.
Tom isn’t falling backwards off of picnic tables — but only because I am watching him like a hawk.
And I don’t know if it’s that he’s at an age where he seems to be seeking out choke hazards, or if it’s that I’m staying home with him full-time right now — but all of a sudden it’s gotten harder for me to trust him with others.
And by “others” I mean Kevin.
Now, I trust Kevin with my life. I trust Kevin with Tom’s life.
He is an awesome husband and father.
So when I say I don’t trust Kevin with Tom — I don’t mean it as harsh as it sounds.
I mean, I don’t trust Kevin will feed Tom yogurt as a snack.
I’m not sure Kevin knows that wet diapers also need to be changed.
Last week I worked at the television station in the early mornings, but was home by 9:30 a.m. to be with Tom for the day. Tom usually wakes up between 6 and 7, so I had to give Kev instructions on how Tom and I do our mornings.
And what I discovered was that…
1. I had a hard time handing over those mornings.
2. Even with the instructions, those mornings went nothing like our normal mornings.
After Monday morning, I added more instructions.
After Tuesday, I wrote things down.
After Wednesday, I mentioned just one more tiny little instruction.
And by Thursday I realized I was nuts.
And I stopped the insanity.
Tom was fine. He was alive. He has a dad who loves him very, very much.
He also has a dad who is willing to put up with his nut of a mom.
And I don’t know what finally snapped me out of it — but I finally realized that Kev can do things his own way and it will be fine.
Tom won’t be scarred for life if Kev gives him formula instead of oatmeal for a few mornings. Or if Kevin puts Tom down for a nap, but doesn’t turn on the humidifier.
And I have no idea why it took me three days to realize that, but it did.
I do think Kev would catch me.
I know he would catch Tom.
Kate: Happy New Year, sorry I missed you last week, we were working opposite schedules. I enjoy reading your thoughts, we need more Moms like you! Tom will rule the kindergarten class. (just blink and that time will happen)
Awwww… you only have that many instructions because you are such a good mommy.
Oh – and Hi David Chandley!
I totally understand – no one can be a mom like THE mom. That’s why moms give birth, you know — God gave them a special understanding of protection and nurturing. But dads are good substitutes most of the time.
I also feel the same way about others doing the driving – The only one I trust behind the wheel is me.