It Wasn't Me
By Kylie Ardill
I have one of those children, the crazy ones who rush headlong into everything without a seconds thought. He's started this new thing in the last few weeks called "PUSH" where he pushes everyone and everything with all his might.
That includes me, his Dad, walls, doors, other kids at McDonalds (to the scowls of other mothers at McDonalds), the car door, the front door, his toys, the dog ... I could go on but I think you get the picture. All the while he shouts at the top of his voice "PUUUUUSH!". It's his new word and he's taking it for a test run with actions included. I've tried to cease this new game since I am tiring of being beaten up by a two-year-old on a daily basis but I've not had any success. It was with my lack of parental control in mind that I came to the oldest trick in the book, the "if you keep doing that one day....". With that new approach ready to fire I employed a different tactic, I started saying "you know, one day you're going to hurt yourself doing that, one of those doors you push is going to bounce back and hit you in the face". He looked at me quizzically at first, probably because he's two and I think I overstepped his level of comprehension, after looking at me like that for a few seconds he ran to the bedroom door and pushed it yet again with his little war cry at full pitch. I guess because he's two what he probably heard was "door, push, bounce, COOL!" or something like that. I kept at it for the week, sure that I was making inroads and then today, what do you know? As for all motherly prophecies beginning with "if you keep doing that, one day...." it came true. Today the bedroom door attacked my son just like I said it would, bounced right back after an especially vigorous pushing incident and WHAM! bopped him right in the eye. He came screaming, crying his little heart out and I picked him up and cuddled him and kissed it better and for the first time in my parental career I got to say those ever so sweet words ...... I told you so. Eventually he calmed down and we decided that a milkshake was in order at the local mall, just what he needed to overcome the last niggling pain the bump was brining on. By the time we arrived at the mall the welt on his head was of gigantic proportions. Right above his eye it was, that spot where the bumps really swell up and look particularly nasty. He looked like he'd just done 10 rounds with the meanest kid in the McDonalds playground and come off second best. We wandered in to the mall and looked around and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why everyone was looking at me so strangely. I went through the checkout to stares and whispers, the milkshake lady hardly looked at me straight and they were all looking at my son. He's cute, I'll grant him that, but not THAT cute even with motherly bias taken into account. Then ... as I walked out the doors with a happy, milkshake filled two year old it dawned on me. I realised they were looking at his head and assuming I'd done it or something equally horrific. At first I was mortified, how DARE people make such assumptions! How DARE they think I could do that to my son, I adore him! And then I began to realise that it was good that people assumed things like that, there are kids who are being abused and it's good that they assume since maybe one day they'll be right, all those blue rinse ladies in the supermarket line. Maybe one day they'll take down someone's number plate and report them and catch a child abuser and have the children whisked away to safety. That's a GOOD thing. As good as that is, let it be known I DIDN'T do it! Just know, if you're shopping at Deepwater Plaza in Woy Woy, NSW, Australia and you see me (purple stroller, green trim, tattoo on my forehead saying "it wasn't me") -- just wave, nod and if you're feeling particularly bold give me a secret wink and handshake because now we both know, it really, was the door! Kylie is editor and created of online parenting magazine Spilt Milk and enjoys being at home to raise her VERY active son Samuel, most of the time.
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It Wasn't Me - From Mom's Point of ViewThursday, 29 January 2009 It Wasn't Me By Kylie Ardill I have one of those children, the crazy ones who rush headlong into everything without a seconds thought. He's...
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