motherhood

It Started With a Whisper…

Boys Telling Secrets

And there he goes. I can see the thought already set in his mind and he’s about to act on it. There he goes…UP the slide. Now normally, if the playground were empty, this wouldn’t bother me. However, we have a rule that slides are for going down not up, especially when the playground is crowded. We’ve already discussed this more than once today. I could shout, “Stop right there, don’t you dare go up that slide!” I really don’t want to shout.

There goes the other little guy. He’s getting onto that spinning monstrosity that someone ALWAYS ends up getting hurt on. Seriously, every single time we come to this place. It may not always be my kid getting hurt, but someone will just watch and see. Must I shout and draw attention? Must I shout across the playground sounding like the strict and overbearing mom?

I don’t want to be that “helicopter mom” or whatever they are calling it these days. I don’t want to constantly nag my children. I don’t want to yell, scream, and shout…especially out in public. I’ve reached that wonderful stage where I can sit back on a park bench and watch my kids run around and play. They can climb independently now. I no longer have the need to stand behind them, hands up, ready to catch them when their foot slips. It’s a new day. A new day where I can sit and vent with a friend on a park bench and not hover over my kids. We can dish about all our mommy triumphs and fails, while delivering a thermos and snack here and there.

I bite my tongue and try not to intervene. I would love to yell, “Stay away from the little punk in the red shirt that’s trying to push everyone.” I hold back and wait for them to come get a drink and then whisper it in their ear.

That’s the key. The whisper. I’ve had this idea for years. I think about it every single time we go to the park. Little kid buds. I would love to sit from the bench, not hovering, and softy whisper, “Don’t even think of picking up that stick (possibly for the 4th time).” Next, I’ll see them look right at me knowing they just heard what I said through their little ear buds. No need to raise my voice and draw attention. How fabulous would that be? What would you always be whispering?

8 thoughts on “It Started With a Whisper…

  1. Sheri, you make me smile, laugh and remember. If I had ear bud communication, it’d be “Knock that little bully on his ass.” Or “Get that lolli-pop out of your mouth if you’re even thinking of climbing that jungle gym.” Or “That hot slide is gonna burn your butt.” Or I’m calling Santa.” Ha. I think you’re on to something worth a ga-zillion bucks! xo!

  2. I don’t want to be that hovering, over-protective mom either, but I always see the accident (or the potential for an accident) seconds before it happens and feel like if I don’t yell across the playground, it’ll be my fault when it occurs. Little kid buds are a great idea! Or maybe I can just record myself on their iPods and play “Careful! Careful!!! CAREFULL!!!!” on an endless loop… 🙂

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