Monday, December 06, 2010

My Kryptonite.


The other day I was on the phone when suddenly Blake started crying. I ended the conversation and rushed into the study where Miron was watching television while Blake was playing. 

Neither one of us was sure what exactly happened. With teary eyes Blake was crying and walking towards me with his hand raised to show me where it hurts. His face was becoming red, his eyes were tearing up and his mouth was curved downwards and wide open. I picked him up and asked him what was wrong, but he just kept crying holding up his hand. I looked at it and didn't see anything. Just to be on the safe side I took him to the bathroom and started pouring cold water on the hand for a few seconds. No bruises were appearing and Blake's crying was fairly low key. He wasn't screaming his head off. Whatever it was, it wasn't serious.

So I took Blake back to the study and sat down with him to resume watching television. When Miron offered him some satsuma wedges, Blake ate them quietly. The crisis was over.

Now assuming you weren't bored out of your mind reading this cliche anecdote and clicked on one of the links on the right leading you to a more interesting gay parent blog, you must wonder why I'm writing this. Little one gets a booboo, cries, mommy kisses it to make it better. Who cares, right? It happens to all parents and more than once.

For me, the amazing thing is the effect it had on me. Seeing Blake like that, vulnerable and unhappy, it's like someone just clenched my heart and gave it a good squeeze. I just can't bare seeing him in pain or unhappy. I know it's an entirely natural biological instinct to protect your children, but sometimes it's overwhelming; The knowledge that just like my parents can't protect me from bad experiences, I can't always be there for protect Blake. Forget Freddy Krueger or Jason Voorhees, for me a real horror movie will be one about parents with a terminally ill child.

The big irony is that for Blake Miron and I are giant supermen right now. Practically Gods who can part seas and provide mana from heaven (or Jaffa Cakes). Yet he makes me feel so vulnerable and helpless when I find myself unable to instantly fix every little unpleasantness Blake experiences. This giant superman has found his Kryptonite...


--Mickey

7 comments:

Mark said...

I think that you were able to provide him with what he needed at that time and that is, comfort.
Because I'm an expert Parent and all..., I can tell you that you are doing everything perfectly. You're a good Mama.
And if it helps any, I still think of you and Miron as Gods.
Your Friend, m.

JCB said...

I know EXACTLY what you mean!
Someone has been calling our son "Maxine" and it is bothering him - and us. I have NO idea who is doing it but it is driving me insane to know it is happening, that it is hurting his feelings and I am powerless!

Mickey Blumental said...

Aww, Mark. You always say the sweetest things and so convincingly!

Poor Max... I hope you'll be able to find out who's bullying him. Kids can be quite mean...

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