A Mother's Intuition

A Mother's Intuition is usually correct, and today I was right on the money. So, why didn't I listen to it? Because daddy was there and overrode my decision.

I have come to respect my husband's imput greatly when it comes to all things boy. I know, in my mother's heart, that my job is to love and protect them, and to keep them from all harm. The hard part, though, is that sometimes that harm is good for them. Not succeeding at something serves to spur them on to work harder, or think more creatively about how to succeed. We mothers don't always recognize this, or appreciate the skinned knees or tears that often come with the 'lesson.'

After all, God put in our female hearts the desire to love and nurture our children, both boy or girl. What we as women don't understand is that boys  in general, need to fail. They need to learn what it is to work harder, and push themselves further. Their lifelong question, "Do I have what it takes?" sometimes needs to be answered with a resounding, "No."

So, despite my mother's intuition today, I listened to my husband.

The boys have been testing the limits with riding their big boy bikes down the hill on our street. They have been riding their big wheel bike for sometime down the hill which has been fine. It has wide wheels on the back and sits low to the ground. But, with the introduction of Nathan's big boy bike for his birthday, they have each been chomping at the bit to test their limits on the hill.

With helmets on, the did it. Not once, but twice. They flew down that hill so fast in front of our house I literally lost my heart. For the first time ever, this mom of boys, which is usually not so faint hearted, lost it. I have never seen the trip to the ER so closely in my future. I begged and pleaded with my husband to make them stop. I'm not so sure he heard me though for the clapping and cheering he was doing as they successfully made it down the hill time and time again.

Just as he commented, "They're fine as long as one of their back wheels doesn't hit a mailbox," the first one crashed. It was Drew boy. My baby. My loud cry baby.

I saw his limbs twirl in directions that I was assured he was going to need both stitches and a cast to repair. He stood up, looked at dad, gave a big grin and a high five.

I was in disbelief.

He didn't cry, until he saw the blood. Just a few short minutes after he crashed he saw blood. And he lost it. It was such a delayed reaction, it was hilarious. Poor Dan and I couldn't stop laughing as we race to get the first aid box and bandage up our little dare devil who had just come to grips with the reality that pavement can jump up and bite you - hard!

Within minutes of bandaging up my precious number two son, number one son bit the pavement as well.He was much quicker to cry though, and much harder to hold down and pour peroxide on. Previous experience had ingrained the bubbly medicine into his brain - and caused for an all-neighborhood to hear scream.

While I ranted and raved to all three boys that it was never to be done again, I knew it my heart they'd conquer the hill some other day much to my chagrin. It'll probably require more bubbly medicine, and Curious George Bandaids - so I'll be prepared! And in the mean time I'll keep praying to ward off the day we do head to the ER for the first time.