We all fall down

Parenting is

A gargantuan undertaking

It’s nearly impossible

To do it “right”

Maybe most of it’s success

Are in it’s moments of shortcoming

In the moments you feel like a failure

In the times you realize

You can’t do everything

And at some point

Providence must catch

What you have released

Or what has run

From your grip

My Mother worked too many jobs

Was too ill

To be a “Parent”

In the conventional sense

I didn’t really have a bedtime

Or a bed

Till I was 9

I didn’t have lovingly prepared lunches

With inspirational notes

Or any sense of structure

She worked hard to provide for me

She loved me fiercely

I could come to her with anything

I was never afraid to talk to her

She taught me to trust my instincts

Her parenting genius

Was in her surrender to her circumstances

She physically could not be

The parent she likely wished to be

So she let go

I remember her telling me

Time and again

You’re not my child

You’re God’s child

I get to keep you for a little while

The universe was to make up for the lack

I was raised in the manner of the 70’s

Even though I was born in the 80’s

I ran outside by myself

I had the blessed privilege

Of being left alone

To imagine

To dream

To fall

And to pick myself back up

When no one was around

And fall I did

A lot

I fell out of my favorite Magnolia tree

I fell out of swings

Off of my bike

But more than I fell

I climbed

To the top of my tree

I tried things

Without thinking up the worst case scenario first

My body learned dexterity and strength

My mind learned

The beauty of sunlight

Shining through glossy green leaves

The perfect stillness

That one can find

In a corner with a giant book

Or the strange thrill

Of going through the kitchen drawers

In my Grandmothers house

Where I learned the value of the word

“Sharp”

I dug in the dirt

Frustrated my grandparents landscaping

By planting every acorn I could find

The rain

Was never a reason not to go outside

It was a reason

To wear my raincoat and boots

And eventually shed them

So I could feel the bottom of a muddy puddle

With my bare feet

One of my favorite smells on earth

Continues to be

Hot driveway concrete in a downpour

My knees are still scarred from cuts

One nearly 4 inches long

Evidence of the very serious business

Of playing

Now that I’m a parent

I’m very familiar with the visceral panic

That overtakes you

The first time you gaze into your baby’s eyes

Such overpowering love

But also

How the hell will I keep you safe

How will I keep you from pain and suffering

How will I keep you from ever falling

What has largely disappeared from the parenting landscape

Of today

Is the catagorical truth

The humbling divinity

That we cannot

We cannot keep our children safe

Or undamaged

Or free from suffering

It is futility to strive against it

And damaging deeper

Than any bodily injury

To rob them of their childhood

Of those moments

When you lose your grip

On the branch above you

And by yourself

Have to find a way

To keep from falling

Or you don’t

And you learn

You can survive it

So many of us today

Without even meaning to

Are the helicopter kind

As a result

Children can often become “sensitive”

Unable to be alone

Affronted by the bombastic

Roar of life

Once

We had Athena outside at a friend’s house

Playing with some other children

She picked up a large stick

She loves sticks

And began to twirl and sway

The father of another little girl immediately raced from the porch steps

Surrounded his daughter with outstretched arms

Admonished Leroy to take the “weapon” from Athena

Before someone got really hurt

Yes

That really happened

One of my dearest friends

Is a Mother whom I greatly admire

Her son

Lives the life we all should

He eats cumbers off the vine in summer

He runs around naked

Gets a bruise and keeps on going

This kid is a flesh a blood

OshKosh B’gosh ad

His parents are teaching him one of the greatest secrets

A secret that some never learn

How to really drink life down

He was injured recently

Pretty seriously injured

In a way that could have happened to almost any child

Of almost any Mother

We cannot rule every second


After my feelings of empathy for my friend

And relief that her son will be okay

Some of my first thoughts were

“Dear God

Let her keep him running

Don’t let this sink her battleship

Help her to keep her hands open”

Once

When Athena was in the backyard by herself

Gathering sticks and throwing rocks into puddles

She decided to climb a small tree on the hill

Our yard is gated off

And from the kitchen window

I can see nearly everything

Except the hill with the small tree

So when I looked up and didn’t see her

I wasn’t really worried

She had never attempted tree climbing before

Then I heard the wail

The wail that makes every maternal heart cringe

The one that means hurt

I ran outside to find her clutching her chest and crying

I saw the tree

And the jagged broken end of a branch

“Holy shit

She’s impaled herself”

I raced to her

Yanked up her shirt

To see only a scratch

A thumping good one

But still

A scratch

After a few moments of snuggling

And ceremonious bandaging

She was back outside

Wiser than the little tree

Still chasing sticks and adventure

I myself

Love the outdoors

It’s heals me

I can however

Also be quite sedentary

Preferring sometimes to read and paint and play at games

That don’t require me to do 45 loads of laundry

Or slather everyone in bug repellent

But a couple days ago

When Athena and I were making a Target run

She looked up at me in excitement

As we approached a rain puddle

“Mommy! A muddy puddle! Can I splash?”

I told her no

She didn’t have on the right shoes

Her feet would get really wet

Yes

I really said that

All the way home I was appalled at myself

Her feet would get wet

What was wrong with me

Never mind the fact that my precious child

Asked me

She asked me if she could splash in a puddle

I continued to be mortified at myself

In the morning

After more rain

I bundled up both my babies

Wrapped a sweater over my pajamas

Grabbed my coffee cup

And out we went

We sailed leaves down “rivers”

The girls ran

And fell

In the mud

They smushed soggy grass

Got it stuck in their hair

Waded in the outdoors

Every once in a while

Glory would stop

Look up

Motion to the sky in amazement

And then smile the biggest smile

Athena was busy with her “boats”

As I stood in my pajamas

Watching my ladies waddle through water

With dirt besmirched faces

In pants that did indeed require double washing

I was filled with an almost foreign sense

Of accomplishment

This was parenting

Standing idly at the ready

While your children cover themselves in life

I lifted my mug to the clouds

And to a little boy in Birmingham

Whose loving wonderful parents

Have taught me so much

While they are learning themselves

“Cheers Roe. This mud puddle’s for you.”