THE DAY MOMMY LOST HER MIND - PART II

I am a mother who sees danger at every turn.

Some of my neuroses come from actual life experiences. For instance, my kids are not allowed to play "Dizzy Izzy" - that game where you put your head on a bat and spin in circles and then try to run a straight line. My brother received a severe head injury playing that game, so no dizzy izzy for the W kids.

I was also always scared of balloons. Oh, my kids got to have them but I let them fly away pretty quickly because they are a severe choking hazard and, after hearing of a distant family member who lost their FIVE YEAR OLD from choking on a balloon, I pretty much banned them in our home.

I wish I could convince my daughter to wear a face mask and chest protector IN THE FIELD during softball games because, as a pitcher, she could get injured by a line drive. Plus I totally don't want to have to pay for braces because thus far she doesn't need them. But she is SO not going to wear that gear unless it's required so I don't push the issue.

I do keep a roll of bubble wrap in the van in case I can convince her to let me wrap her in it before each game. So far, no luck.

We used to have a couple of bachelors that hung around the house in hopes of receiving meals. They were so incredibly good to the kids when they were little - so natural and hands on. But they used to pick them up by their hands and lift them high into the air. And I always saw dislocated shoulders when they did that; so I'd say "watch his arm sockets," and the bachelors and Paul would laugh at me. To this day, when we see the bachelors they say "Watch those arm sockets!!" to this paranoid mother.

So when my kids went through a phase when they were constantly playing around the doors of our house - one trying to shut it while the other tried to open it, I saw an orthopedic tragedy in my future. Sometimes they would fight at the door: "Let me in!!" "No, it's my room - stay out!" as they pushed and pulled trying to invade the other's space or keep the other out. Sometimes it was done in a playful mode: "No, you can come in when the surprise is ready!"

And I used to march down the hall and say "Don't play around the door like that, you will smash your fingers!"

But something about pushing against the door while their sibling was pushing the other way, was extremely satisfying to my children. To think I spent all that money on Little Tykes and Fisher Price when they would have been happy with a door.

Finally, one day I had reached my limit with playing around the doors. I think Daddy was out of the country, but I'm not positive. It just always adds a little bit of a dramatic element if I can say "Of course Paul was out of the country." Woe is me.

So the kids were each standing on one side of a bedroom door, pushing with all their strength, one wanting in, the other trying to keep them out when...Mommy lost her mind.

"THAT'S IT! I HAVE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES TO STOP PLAYING WITH THE DOORS. YOU SERIOUSLY COULD SMASH A FINGER. LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT COULD HAPPEN..."

And I went to the kitchen and brought back a plain yellow No. 2 pencil. "This could be your finger if it's smashed in the door." And I put the pencil in the door and slammed the door shut on it. When I opened the door, there was a pathetic jagged half pencil in my hand.

"THERE! THAT'S WHAT YOUR FINGER WILL LOOK LIKE IF IT GETS SMASHED IN THE DOOR. MAYBE ALL OF YOUR FINGERS. DO YOU WANT TO GO THROUGH LIFE WITH NO FINGERS ON ONE HAND? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HAPPEN? IS IT?"

Because I think object lessons are excellent ways to teach our children in a reasonable, gentle, non-threatening manner.

And I'm sure in their precious little minds, they pictured little finger fragments scattered on the carpet and tried to imagine how in the world they would hold a Popsicle with no fingers.

In my demented state I saw little fragments of my mind scattered on the carpet and wondered how I was going to hold on to my sanity with no chocolate in the house.