Head First for Mommy’s Birthday
I’m not the sort of parent who panics – well, I’m really not the sort of person who panics. If I see one of my kids fall, I don’t generally drop everything and run to their aid. In fact, I’m always amazed at the rapid response that seems to be preprogrammed into most moms. At the slightest wound, or potential wound, I’ll see all the moms jump to a child’s side – swooping them up and soothing their wails. I, on the other hand, believe that woundedness is a part of life and my sympathy will only make them less capable of handling it.
Years ago when I was involved in a sailing accident, that involved us ditching a 40 foot yacht in Alaskan waters, some thought I was joking when I called in our Mayday request. They told me later that I was too calm to be experiencing a life-threatening emergency.
I once watched a friend’s daughter get hit in the head with a baseball bat. I reacted like a mom! I ran over and scooped this little girl up and held her in my arms before I even knew what I was doing. It really surprised me – I’d never reacted like that before, or since. Well, until this last Tuesday.
It was The Wife’s 10th anniversary of her thirtieth birthday. We took her downtown to REI to get a pair of cool Pacific NW shoes. A couple of hours later and $90 poorer, we were leaving the store. Our plan was to meet a friend at Bob’s Red Mill, in Milwaukie.
I was carrying our Smiling Son and Darling Daughter was trailing behind. Daydreaming, is more appropriate. At four years old, she is curious about everything! As she approached the small set of stairs to go out the main exit, she tripped. I saw it coming, but was helpless to do anything about it – she went head first into a steel beam that supports the hand rail.
It took her a few seconds to figure out what happened and that she was hurt, but I was already handing our son to The Wife. It didn’t take long for the blood to spot on my hands and shirt, but given how profusely scalp wounds usually bleed, it really wasn’t bad at all.
I carried her to the restroom and soon learned she had a one inch laceration about three inches above her left ear. After cleaning it up and applying a little pressure, I could see it wasn’t deep and wouldn’t need “stitches.” On the way out the door, we paused to review the scene of the crime. I saw this as a good teaching opportunity about paying attention, etc, blah, blah, blah. While doing an accident reconstruction with my Darling Daughter, a nice lady from the REI human resources department offered to get an ice pack for us. That was cool! (pun intended)
It is really true I keep discovering (over and over), that these things hurt the parents far more than the kids. Of course they’ll never believe us, just like I didn’t believe my parents, but it cut to my core to watch her sail into that steel beam. In fact, all day long I kept rehearsing in my mind the ramifications of accidents, pain, and letting go of my kids as they get older.
I’ve been told that from the moment a child is born, we begin the process of letting go. My Mom didn’t do that very well. It is my goal to raise my children in a way that I can let them go with a minimum of fear.
By the way, we ended up having a great time at Bob’s Red Mill – and the rest of the day was a huge success!
If You Don’t Like My Driving, Stay Off the Sidewalks!
For years I’ve lived with the misconception that I didn’t have a hobby. I mean, I don’t knit, carve wood, tole paint, or build hot rod muscle cars. I don’t do crossword puzzles, bird watch, sail, or drive noisy two-wheeled vehicles through pristine forests. But it suddenly occurred to me, I do have a hobby – it’s driving.
I started driving, solo, when I was about 10, and my Dad put me behind the wheel of a 18-wheeler lo-boy and had me drive it across the parking lot. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t drive – whether sitting in my Dad’s lap for the last block before we got home, or getting my license the day I turned 16. For the first 10 years of my driving “hobby,” I either got in an accident or received a ticket – at least one of those every year.
Now, less you jump to conclusions that I was a bad driver, you need to know that none of those accidents were my fault – in the strictest sense of the word. I deserved every ticket, and many more, except for the first one I received in Sherwood (but that’s another story).
I pushed the envelope and was very aggressive – but I was smart. My favorite car, of all the cars I owned, was a 1992, Datsun 280zx. It was zippy, sporty, cruised well on the freeways, and was great around town. In less than three years, I put over 100,000 hard miles on that car – most of them over 85mph.
You need to know that none of those accidents were my fault!”
I prided myself on staying sharp, aware, and well practiced. Not only did I read, watch, and pay attention on how to drive, but because of my emergency services career, I had opportunities for training that most people never receive. But a funny thing happened on the way to the forum – I lost my edge.
Somewhere around the age of 27-28, I got a ticket. I shouldn’t have gotten it either. Oh, I deserved it, but despite my radar detector, my upper-hand in the traffic situation, and my attempt to elude the police, they still got me for a very expensive ticket. A short time later, I narrowly missed crashing into another car on top of the Marquam Bridge – he was going faster and was driving more aggressively than I – and surely we both would have been killed.
At that point, I sold my fast cars and bought a slow-moving, 4-cylinder Toyota pickup. Around that same time, I got my first cell-phone.
There was a lot of talk about cell phones and safe driving, but I couldn’t see where it was any different than having another person in the car with me – and carrying on a conversation. Sure, there were a few times when I found myself at a destination other than the one I had planned, because I was engaged on the phone. And yeah, I’ll admit, there were a couple of lapses in my attention that resulted in near collisions, but due to my superior lucky driving skills my Mom’s prayers, I was able to avoid a mishap.
Over the past 20 years, I haven’t paid too much attention to my driving.”
Over the past 20 years, I haven’t paid too much attention to my driving. I suppose it has ceased to be a hobby for me and my focus was on other things. I’ve been vaguely aware that a combination of my age (don’t ask) (my detiorating eyesight, reactions, and hearing), and other distractions were causing me to be less safe than I should be – but I really wasn’t paying that much attention. Until two weeks ago!
Although I wasn’t on the phone, wasn’t texting, nor was I surfing the Interwebs. I was not attending to my kids, wasn’t fooling with the stereo/iPod/CD/radio, and I wasn’t shaving. Not that I would ever do any of these things while driving <sigh>. I wasn’t arguing with my wife, setting the GPS, or trying to clean the windshield while driving. I wasn’t tired and the weather was good. So why, all of a sudden, did I find myself about to plow into the back of a car that was nearly stopped on Highway 30, between St. Helens and Scappoose?
As I swerved to avoid a collision, many of my old driving skills kicked in: I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was in the lane I was swerving into, I stayed off the brakes, and rapidly swerved back to keep the 4Runner from rolling, or spinning into the other lane. It was a very close call and it could have been devastating to my family.
A few minutes later, I decided I needed a month of intense focus on my driving skills. No cell, no Internet, no distractions – period – I need to get my act together. So, I posted that on Twitter.
Less than a week later I found my self South on I-5, engaged in an intense discussion on the phone. I was using my headset and was doing my best to stay abreast of traffic. I checked my mirrors and looked over my right shoulder before changing lanes, but just as I crossed the line, I caught a flash in my mirror. Someone else had moved into that open slot. I jerked the wheel back and avoided the collision. The amazing thing is, the other person hadn’t even noticed me. She was so engaged in her phone call that she sped past me without a second thought.
As I’ve been more aware of this, I have been appalled – appalled, by what I see happening inside the cockpit of cars on the road. One would think all of our cars are on autopilot and there are no safety issues on the road.
The temptation to check email, SMS, and other messages is great while on the road…”
While the temptation to check email, SMS, and other messages is great while I’m on the road, I’m resisting. Phone calls seem harmless, but in my advanced age, I’m swearing those off too. My kids, when with me, are a constant distraction – I’m trying to figure this one out – any ideas?
It is my desire to treat my vehicle for what it is – a couple of tons of steel propelled through time and space by an explosive liquid. – being piloted by an aging guy who has other things on his mind.
I can take a hint. It’s good to pay attention to these experiences and adjust accordingly. The key is to always be a learner. Are you with me?
Confessing my Dad Attitude 