We've all heard the story about the boy who cried wolf. Ten bucks says, the people ignoring him the most were his actual parents. I say this because of all in the village, they would have heard his panic-stricken yet fake calls for help from the very start. His poor mother probably threw out her shoulder untying her peasant dress to breastfeed when the little twit wasn't even hungry. But then, one day, burned by all the drama-king moments, everyone tuned him out. And so the final score was Villagers: 0/ Wolf 1.
Having just left the podiatrist and seen xray's of Son1's so-flat-they-may-well-be-convex feet, I am feeling horrible for all the years of telling him to stop stomping around the house, and stop whining after your hideously cruel parents made you walk around Disney World for the day. We knew he needed arch supports. We knew he needed orthotics. However we also knew (still know) that he is the Laurence Olivier of teen drama kings. But to see the xrays of bones that are still growing look as stressed as me smack in the middle of school-morning-mayhem, and then hear things like "surgery" and "arthritis" bantered about for my 13 yr old child who I had not just poo poo'd but told to stop whining? Well, I hit a new low.
And here's the REALLY pathetic part-- the old low was just 3 weeks ago. It was 3 weeks ago I sat in a specialist's office hearing that Son2 may have some measurable deficiencies in rods affecting his vision. I mean, gee, it only took me, mother of the year, like 4 years from the first comment to get him in for a pediatric opthamologist's check which resulted in the knowledge his vision was about 20/100 or worse. He had gone through many optometrist visits, but fidgeted and futzed and ADHD'd his way (yes, I just made a new verb) into inconclusive results. But then, in urgently scheduled and elaborate successive exams of his retinas, we saw he WASN'T crying "wolf" for years. He couldn't focus on the haze the world presented and he was crying "waaaay blurry wolf, mom!"
Ugghhh. I've posted items before about some lovely parent fail moments and you all have been amazingly supportive in sharing your lapses... your moments of being non-psychic humans. That feedback does wonders for my delusion that I can pull off this mom thing after all. I really don't like to second guess God, but I wonder at times if he made a tactical error entrusting the care of the most vunerable mortals into the hands of merely older mortals. With limited patience. (Sigh)
In time, these young ones somehow make it to adulthood, and we will sit back and watch as they, in turn, complain about THEIR kids' whining... and the circle of life and the continuum of ignoring children until faced with concrete evidence they're actually impaired will be complete. Ahhhh... all in good time, the products of all my parenting fails will, in fact, generate their own. Circle of life, indeed.