Moms take care of their young (sometimes)

The irony that this post is coming after Mother's Day is not lost on me. I should start off with a disclaimer. I actually feel good about my skills as a mom. That hasn't always been the case (I so do not miss the newborn phase) but within the last year, I have hit my stride and think that Chad and I do a nice job raising a well-adjusted, kind, passionate, and intelligent little girl. So the theme of this blog post is more tongue-in-cheek than anything.

I am not a helicopter mom or a free-range parent or a tiger mom (okay, I will be honest, I don't actually know what a tiger mom is but I'm pretty sure it isn't me). It should surprise no one that, in general, I do not like categories and tend to think that life is better explained along dimensions. So I'm the mom that hangs back a bit at the playground, biting my tongue and not shouting "be careful!" every 30 seconds but I'm also at the playground, trying to watch her from a safe distance.

Which also means that I am the mom whose kid flies off the slide and lands fast and hard right on her face. Right after I took a picture, incidentally. She was fine and I was only slightly mortified. The behaviorist in me knew we shouldn't leave the playground right after a fall so fortunately she picked a safer slide to go down next. Score one for me. There you go; I'm a better mom than a tasmanian devil who often gives birth to approximately 50 young imps but is only able to feed 4 of them.

If she wants to eat a lime, I will let her. 

She loves to help in the kitchen which means that she's often getting to see food in various states of preparation and she is becoming quite the sous chef. Unfortunately on Saturday, I touched a hot pan with my oven mitt and went to grab a second oven mitt and grabbed her leg with the hot cloth. I felt absolutely horrible; she was shaking she was crying so hard. To be fair, it wasn't that hot--it didn't leave a mark even seconds later--but it scared her. She is still talking about how I burned her. We wrapped it with a cool cloth and eventually put a Frozen band-aid on it. If I even looked at it from afar, she screamed and talked about how it hurt "oh so very much" [cue heart breaking] but I did see her scrape that area with a broom just moments later without even flinching. She insisted on walking around with her pant leg rolled up so she could easily reference where mommy burned her. But she got lots of apologies and kisses. So I think that ranks me slightly above pipefish parents, whose dads withhold resources from embryos that are small or potentially unattractive.

I also do behavioral experiments with her. Which results in one of the best videos you've seen of her, I guarantee it.

(note: this is not actually how one performs the marshmallow experiment and these experiments typically are conducted with kids four and older. Also, spoiler alert/sorry, Mom, she did not get the extra marshmallow)

On Sunday, we went to the aquarium for Avery's birthday. It was a very fun time as Avery's friends Ian and Peyton also joined us. I will save the stories about my white knuckle driving because A was feeling car sick all the way there for another time. 

Sea Turtle Parenting

Thank goodness for alloparenting; I had a whole system of folks (my village!) acting in a parental role at the aquarium.

And as you can see, A was never far from any of us. In fact, she was only a couple of feet from me and Kristin when a man literally just picked her up to see the jellyfish. He held her long enough for Kris and I to look at each other and make several incredulous comments as I scrambled to think of what to do and if there was any rational reason for this behavior. I think the right answer always feels like "um, yea, don't let a stranger hold your kid". All is well, obviously. She squirmed and seemed uncomfortable being held by a stranger (good girl) and he seemed surprised (???) and tried showing her something else in the tank. I started stepping toward him and he turned and said "she isn't having any of this" and I quickly took her back. In the moment, I couldn't tell if I was over- or under-reacting. Was this the kind of story I would tell and people would think it was no big deal? Oklahoma is just friendly and I have to get accustomed to that? Instead, would it be a story I would share while people's eyes widen in shock that I didn't step up, followed by telling me all the things they would have said or done (including actual or threat of physical harm), making me feel ineffective at protecting A. You don't need to call or email telling me you had the second reaction; it turns out that has been the universal response thus far. Fortunately, I was two steps away and didn't take my eyes off of her (and catalogued a description of the man and his presumable wife and daughter) but yea, what was that? And why didn't I step up? Is this better than the jellyfish we were watching who just let their young break off into their own individuals and float away? Yes, yes it is (this post could have gone in several directions as I also had interesting factoids about animals eating their young or that sharks often eat their siblings in the womb).

p.s. No, A did not and does not have siblings in the womb. This was not an announcement of any sort. After reading about black eagles killing their siblings while their moms watched, no thanks. We may be good with our only forever. We are absolutely good for now.