My shop teacher in high school once told us that it's good to be afraid of the dangerous machines that were in the shop. If we were afraid, it meant we'd be more cautious. He said that he was more likely to be hurt since he was used to the machines. Ironically, he told us this to calm our fears.
The same is true with parenting.
My youngest experiences things that my oldest never would have. Not to say that I was uptight about parenting with my first, at least not at the time. Back then, I thought I had a pretty "live and let learn" parenting attitude. I baby proofed only as needed and let him learn valuable lessons on his own, i.e. "See why mommy told you not to do somersaults on the bed?"
But that was two children ago. So far, no broken bones and no stitches and the only ER visits have been due to illness. I consider that pretty lucky, especially since my children got my clumsy gene and can manage to trip over colors in the carpet or hurt themselves with a cotton ball. Now that number three has come along, I've become a lot more comfortable and a lot less cautious. No, I would never put my child in direct harm, and there have been plenty of other youngest children that have survived their old siblings (and absent-minded parents). Maybe I just trust my instincts a lot more. Maybe I've accepted that pregnancy brain - which has turned into mommy brain - is here to stay. Maybe it's my third and I simply don't care anymore (note: this is not the reason). Maybe, just maybe, I've gotten used to this whole mom thing.
I started contemplating this the other night during bath time. My youngest, a mere 7 months old, has been sitting unsupported for about a month now and has graduated out of the infant tubs. She now sits in the bathtub just like the other kids, sometimes even with the company of her 2 year old sister. I never would have done this with my first. I think he was in a baby tub until he started crawling out, around 10 month or so. Same for my middle child.
And then, the other night, it happened. My 7 month old, in the big bathtub, flipped over from a sitting position onto her tummy. Had this been my first, I would have shrieked and then sat him up, made sure he was breathing, then gotten him out of the tub and cradled him the rest of the night. Being my third, I hovered and made sure she was okay. Sure enough, after the initial shock, she splashed around, then looked up and smiled at me. Turns out my 7 month old can swim.
There is also safety in numbers. My husband always jokes that when we need someone to watch the kids that the "big one can watch the little one." We laugh about it, but little do we realize it actually happens. I will often leave all three children unattended in the living room while I run downstairs and do a quick load of laundry. If we're playing outside and I need something inside (like to check on the sleeping baby), I don't hesitate to leave them alone.
This, however, is more out of necessity than comfort in parenting. I'm not about to drag three kids and a laundry basket down a flight of stairs with me just to corral them back up the stairs three minutes later. Likewise, dragging two muddy kids inside the house just to check on a sleeping baby is a little excessive. Having three children under the age of 5 means three different sleeping schedules. If I wait for all three to be asleep, it will be 9 pm and my bedtime as well. When there was only one child and one solid sleeping schedule, I didn't have to leave him alone. Now with my third, I fear I'm becoming an absent parent.
I don't remember my shop teacher ever having an accident while I attended school there. While he was comfortable with the machines from using them on a daily basis, I like to think that his profession of teaching always let him set a good example for his students. I like to think that with parenting, I'm setting a good example for my kids. Yes, I should be more vigilant (How did you get that nose spray? Who unplugged the radio? Why is there pen on the wall and where did the pen come from?), but I'm also thankful that I'm not a constant presence of conformity for my kids. I hope they know me leaving them alone, especially with their baby sister, let's them know that I trust them.
They are, after all, good people, and I'd hate to damper their curious nature. And while I might not have been there when they earned that bump from falling off the bench, I was there to pick them up, hold them and soothe them. Something tells me they'll remember that more, anyway.
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