So is it bad that I have SB convinced that if he ever rides on a motorcycle all his hair will blow off?
Being raised by a professional Jewish mother, I tend to lean towards the overprotective side and this really bugs me sometimes. I’m sure it bugs SB a lot of the time. I’ve resisted the urge to make him wear a bike helmet 24/7, and so far I haven’t wrapped him in bubble wrap, but it’s a fine line I walk…
As a kid, I always hated having the earliest curfew and having my mom hover at the pool every time my friends and I went swimming, well into my teens. My grandma, with her charming Viennese accent, always said, “you’ve got to vatch”. Doors were locked all the time and every terrible news story was discussed at length with a dire warning to us to be careful. It’s a miracle we survived without cell phones, helmets, knee pads and GPS.
So now I hear myself telling SB to be careful, stop putting stuff in his mouth, and the hardest – don’t pet dogs you don’t know. I was bitten three times as a kid, despite my mom’s hovering, so I suppose there’s lessons we just learn on our own. But not on my watch. No way, Jose.
So how do you draw the line and not be too overprotective? What if he grows up to be one of those freaky testosterone laden Outside Magazine kind of guys? “Sure son, go ahead and juggle those flaming chainsaws while you’re tightrope walking across Niagra Falls. Big wave surfing? Why the heck not? You want to hike across Afghanistan? Go for it!” See what I mean? Boys like to do stuff like that.
I guess for now I’ll work on keeping Mr. Potato Heads eyes out of SB’s nose and try to stop him from eating rolly bugs. Baby steps. But I’m not going to give up on the motorcycle/baldness lie, at least not until he calls me on it…