Practicing Oops…
Posted By PB Rippey On 6. April 2009 @ 05:17 In BABY BABY | 57 Comments
The beach is his personal backyard. And he knows it.
Warming up.
And he’s off. We follow to keep him alive and undrowned as he races straight for the ocean’s tumble. Like sheepdogs, we herd and never, ever take our eyes off of him or covet a second to gaze at entrancing horizon, blithely assuming the other parent is watching. We both watch him. It’s the only way. He’s consistently astonishingly fast, deft and eely when wet.
Sometimes he’ll give us a break and run inland.
Often, though, we’ll swoop in and interrupt and redirect and distract and coax and offer suggestions and frequently bribe with a sand bucket or little goldfish cracker.
It’s a rush to see him happy and thrilled and stimulated by the beach and the tide. He loves the beach, already, as much as his parents. And we love that he loves the water–even though he loves it a little too much at the moment and, in April, we worry he’ll get frostbite or hypothermia from the icy, ruffled surge. We worry, we worry…
But so far so good—all he gets is worn out and nap-ready and although we’re new parents, 16 1/2 months after the mongumongous event we’re trying to worry less and “flow” more when he experiences faceplants or pinches fingers upon closing cell phones or bumps his head on the undersides of tables. Instead of verbalizing OMFG!!!, we internalize panicked expletives and practice emitting mild, non-plussed, “flowing”, oops-es, and turn our faces aside so he won’t see our pale skin and pinched expressions and lips oozing blood from our teeth sinking deeply into them.
Key word, practice.
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