For those of us who are parents I think most of us harbour a few pangs of regret over some situation or another, where we could have handled things better concerning our children
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Like the time I heard my 17 year old daughter making a strange thumping noise in the bathroom and I burst in to find her weeping copiously and banging her head against the wall. The only thing I could think of to make her snap out of this hideous behaviour and talk to me, was to smack her face.
It worked! She was so horrified by my action (and so was I) that she stopped her bawling. I was then able to hear her heart wrenching story of her break up with her boyfriend who had seen her through her matric year as a constant, thoughtful companion. Sadly it had dawned on her that there was no future for them as a couple and it had broken both their hearts when she had told him of her decision.
I remember my dear sister who had a difficult son who tried her to breaking point on many occasions.
Somehow they were always at loggerheads.
Aged 9, he was riding around the house on his bicycle as though in a Grand Prix. Round and round he went clocking up laps.
She heard a clatter of wheels and looking out of the window saw him haul himself up from a tangle of wheels and dirt. She watched him climb back onto his bike and cycle off on yet another lap.
After a while he popped his head in at the kitchen door where she was browning onions prior to adding chunks of meat for the stew that night.
‘I’ve broken my arm, ‘ he shouted in a belligerent way and out he went, back on the bike around the house yet again…. Obviously fine.
By the time she was adding red wine to the stew he popped in again and this time yelled, ‘I think we have to go to the hospital, I’ve broken my arm,’ But before she could question him further he had cleared off on his bike yet again.
She was used to his theatrics and it was only when her husband came home at 6pm that he came to her and announced, ‘I think I’ll pop Larry down to the ‘Outpatients’ I think he might have a greenstick fracture.’
She kept the stew bubbling very quietly and eventually they returned with a plaster cast and a handsome new sling.
She felt dreadful.
My friend Shelly told once about her hectic and extremely responsible job. She ran drug trials for pharmaceutical companies with up to 50 patients at a time. There were often ‘life and death’ circumstances to deal with.
When her 12 year old, hypertensive son complained of a tummy ache she would question him and inevitably find out that either there was a test for which he had not prepared at school, or he had failed to do his homework.
On one occasion she was frantic beyond words at work and when he complained yet again of a ‘tummy ache’. she told him to take 2 Disprin and go to bed.
When he trailed through to her bedroom at 6 the following morning still complaining, she sighed and said, ‘get a hot water bottle and go back to bed.’ He did so.
When she arrived home late that evening she found the housekeeper wringing her hands, ‘Ma’m I think our Michael’s really sick. I think he needs to go to hospital.’
One horrified look at the sweating child and feeling his rigid stomach gently, told her all she needed to know.
Within half an hour of his admittance to hospital he was under the surgeon’s knife, narrowly avoiding a ruptured appendix!
She felt dreadful.
My friend Jude had a new baby. When Ian was a few months old they were preparing to go on a much needed holiday.
The older two children were running circles around the overwrought parents as they organised people to look after the dogs, the precious orchids and the garden services who would come in to monitor the pool and mow the lawns.
At last they were, luggage and all, packed into the motor car.
They drew huge sighs of RELIEF as they drove away from the house.
Suddenly Jude said, ‘ Mike I can’t help but think we have forgotten something,’
As he sighed dramatically she said in the ‘voice’, I’m pretty sure that we have forgotten something.’
‘Did you leave an iron on,’ she just sighed deeply at that suggestion. ‘Did you turn the stove off at the wall?’’
‘Yes,’ she said meekly.
‘Did you cancel the newspaper delivery?’
As she replied ‘yes,’ she suddenly slapped her forehead so hard that had the kids in the back seat stop squabbling over who had the best seat.
‘Go back Mike,’ she shrieked.
“Did you forget to lock the front door again?’ he asked.
She simply yelled, ‘faster Mike faster!
When they dashed into the house( the door had been locked) they found baby Ian fast asleep in his carry chair right where they had left him…… on the floor in the front hallway.
Pixabay
My conclusion is this:
No matter what regret you harbour regarding the way you have dealt with a child somewhere along this road called LIFE, there will always be someone who has a story worse, usually MUCH worse, than yours!
My solution is to admit it to someone and enjoy a good laugh when their story makes yours pale by comparison.
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