Splashing in Puddles

This morning started off rainy (and cold).  While Dan & Liam napped together in the living room, Benjamin and I decided to take Bailey out for his morning walk.  I got B all suited up in his rain gear (which I haven’t been able to do for over a month) and we headed out into the rain.

Benjamin loves to jump in puddles.  I know that’s a kid thing, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen someone with the endless enthusiasm he has for it.  He just doesn’t get tired of it.  I don’t think he would stop on his own until he fell down from exhaustion.  All along our path to Bailey’s walking spot, B splashed in puddles.  He doesn’t discriminate:  big or little, clean or dirty.  He splashes in them all, and all with great vigor.  He gets soaking wet.  He gets really dirty.  He doesn’t care.  (I am grateful that we now have our things, so we have plenty of clean pants for him to wear.)  He also doesn’t care what anyone thinks about what he’s doing (we sure did get some looks — this is apparently something Austrian grandmothers do not approve of).  He is completely “in the moment” and it’s a great thing to witness.  I feel so lucky to get to be a part of things like that.  We walked along with Bailey, and B jumped in puddles and asked me to help him put his hands in his pockets when he got chilly.  He is just the cutest thing.

Then, Dan & Liam joined us, and we headed to McDonald’s (I know, it’s a theme) to get coffee.  Dan & Liam went inside to order, while Benjamin and I stayed outside with Bailey (and the puddles).  After a few minutes, B decided he wanted to go in to join Dan, and not thinking about it overly much, I opened the door to let him in.  The floor was unbelievably slippery (Dan later said even the stroller had trouble) and B got a few steps away from me and fell flat on his face on the floor.  (My poor, sweet, little guy.)  I was still in the doorway, and when I went to go towards him to pick him up, I ended up with Bailey on the other side of the door and me still holding the leash.  Eek!  So, poor Benjamin is on the floor, crying, I’m stuck trying to extricate myself from Bailey and the door.  Two very nice guys who were standing there helped Benjamin up and helped him over towards me (which I am incredibly grateful for, but I don’t think I actually thanked them — I only had eyes for Benjamin).

Ugh.  Not one of my best mom moments.  We were having such a lovely morning, and then I do something short-sighted and poor B ends up getting hurt.  (He is fine — I don’t know how he managed it, but he ended up with only a little bruise.)  I had a really hard time not berating myself for it the rest of the day.  I think this is one of the hardest things about being a parent — I don’t mind suffering if I make a mistake, but it is torture to see one of my kids suffer for a mistake that I’ve made.  I hate it.

He’s ok.  To him, we still had a nice morning, and a great day.  I ended up the complete opposite of Benjamin and his puddles:  embarrassed, guilt-ridden and stressed out.  I’m trying to hold on to his perspective.  I *want* that to be my perspective.  But I also wish that the results of my imperfection could be visited only on myself.

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