...sometimes just isn't enough. I should know - after all he is my child...he's going to have some of my genes! I needed to feel the stove just to make sure it's hot - I didn't believe it just cause my Mom said so.
But today Tim learned the hard way.
His little buddy was over playing and I was upstairs in the kitchen. I heard "I can lift it higher than you..." followed by a crash and screaming. I came running to find Tim on the floor crying a full out 'it really hurts' cry. I rushed over to him and asked what happened.
"I'm not going to tell you" he said between sobs.
I asked his friend what happened and he pointed to my 15 pound weight on the floor beside them. Then I saw the bruise on his cheek beginning to form. Tim knew it was not supposed to be touched - let alone played with, and that's why he didn't want to tell me. I gave some hugs and snuggles and started into my lecture about how important it was to listen to Mommy, how I make rules to protect him because I don't want him to get hurt....then I saw all the blood.
I rushed him upstairs and asked where else it hurt - trying to figure out where the blood was coming from all over his hand. He pointed to another bruise on his arm and then the blood dripping down the back of his head. I almost started crying - but held it together to figure out if it was a big enough gash for stitches, and to hold the ice on him. Luckily it was just a lot of blood for a really tiny cut - and we made the ice into a game counting to 10 on and 10 off. He thought that was fun and smiled through his tears.
When he calmed down we talked about it a little more and I knew a punishment wasn't in order because of the pain and because of the million 'I'm-sorry-and-I'll-never-touch-it-again' 's.
We were bringing Garnet his lunch at work and a little voice from the back seat said 'Mom, I think I'll just stay in the car so that Daddy doesn't see my cut, I don't want to tell him...'
Yeah, I don't think so kid...but nice try!
If only I learned my lessons that fast!