our firstborns make the world unsafe.

Yesterday afternoon we were playing in the front yard. Asher was busy feeding sticks to Taylor, Taylor was busy chewing them and lolling in the grass, and all was right in the world. Until Asher says, "Dirt!" and begins picking up fistfuls of an active ant bed. I got the ants off his hands pretty quickly, but they got caught under his sandal strap, and by the time I had his shoes off, he had about 15 bites on one foot, and about 5-10 more bites elsewhere. The kid didn't even cry (one tough toddler, that's what I have), but he's been pretty uncomfortable, and his foot is (obviously) swollen. His mother, however, aged approximately 5 years in 15 minutes. I was right there! I kept thinking. How does he get hurt when I'm right there with him? And what would have happened if I hadn't been?

I would like to think that if I am conscientious enough, I can always keep him safe. I wish that were possible, but yesterday I was reminded that is never going to be true. And maybe pain is not always mine to prevent. My job as his mother is not to control him, or even to manipulate his circumstances. And the harder I try, the more I will frustrate us both. It's like Dory says in Finding Nemo," You wouldn't want anything to ever happen to him. Otherwise, nothing would ever happen to him." She's right. We are all shaped by our experiences, and to insulate him from any pain (if such a thing were even possible) would sabotage his opportunities to grow.

Obviously there's a balance in this, because it is part of my job to nurture and protect him in the ways I can control. But shaking off the ants and denying him access to new experiences - even risky ones - are two different things. I once read a post with the same title, and yesterday I understood a little more fully what she meant. But I'm doing my best to take my wisdom from Dory, and to trust that God loves my baby more than I do. By His grace, Asher and I both will survive his childhood. Maybe we'll even be better for it.