Foresight (For Naught?)

Not to be confused with foreskin. (Sooo glad I have a girl so I could dodge that circumcision knife...)

For those who are thinking more towards foreboding, then you and I are on the same wavelength. We work well together, you and I. (And just between us, if I wasn't happily married and trying to convince my husband that a second baby is EXACTLY what our budget needs, I would totally be into you...)

All mothers (at least the ones not in the news for really horrid reasons) have some type of foresight when it comes to their kids. You know, the sixth sense, a mother's intuition, inner voice, etc. Fathers do too, but I have seen one case where the dad obviously had his inner voice's volume turned down or on mute since he thought letting his toddler walk on the ledge of a mall fountain was perfectly acceptable while every mother in the vicinity was mentally preparing to adopt this child as soon as they hit the speed dial for DCF on their already whipped out cell phones. (I couldn't find mine.)

My foresight is what gets me into trouble with John sometimes. While we were staying at my folks' this weekend, he took Sprite to see his parents while I joined my sister and best friend for a girls' night out. I walked him and Sprite out to the car and kept reminding him of what not to do thus earning some points on my Frequent Flying off the Handle Miles.

"She has organic cookies and unsweetened applesauce in her diaper bag. Don't give her any other sweet snacks. No chocolate. No candy. No sugar. No ham." (In my defense, baked ham is coated in sugar and pineapple slices, so it fits...Wanna fight about it?)

John gave me the look. You know. The look. The one that says "Don't go there."

I gave him my look. The one that says, "I've been there since late 2006. I own there. Come on over. The weather's nice."

I kept going with my check list anyway since I knew I would be thinking about it later and it made better sense to ruin his next 10 minutes than my entire evening. "Make sure she stays away from the liquor bottles (you know, she may try to pour a little Kahlua into her milk and she's not a happy drunk) and keep a constant eye on her."

John stared at me for a few seconds as he sat in the car. I stared back, unrelenting.

He sighed and drove off.  (Granted, I sometimes go overboard when I talk to him or others on the safety and care of Sprite, but I have to remind John, I do this more to appease my own inner voice than nag him just for the sheer joy of it.) (Okay, sometimes, just for the sheer joy of it, but this time, I swear, my inner voice needed some appeasement.)

I am forever looking into my crystal ball at cause and effect. Cause and effect is what makes Sprite's World go round.

Example: If Sprite stands on that table and acts like a bed-jumping monkey, she may lose her balance. This will cause her to fall. And Mommy will be forced to put down the laundry/phone/blog, so it's best to circumvent the fate that beholds the teetering tot before it happens and save the tears for something more serious, like when Mommy doesn't let her sit on Blue. (Blue doesn't realize how much I really do for her. Get a rub or avoid possible injury? Guess what wins?)

Yes, this can be tedious and annoying to others. I'm not going to defend why I do it. I know it's annoying. But, it's me. And that's my kid. No, not that one. That one.

John is more laid back in his approach. He takes the "Maybe she won't be interested in the outlet/broken trike/lawn mower and there will be no problem." or "Let's burn that bridge when we get there." avenue. My crystal ball shows me a lot of pot holes in his ass-phalt (no, not a typo, shut up Typepad), but I have to live with it for the most part.

John's foresight has not been entirely clear in the past, but never where Sprite is concerned. He's always really careful with her and is more gentle with her than, say, the dogs. He thinks nothing of body slamming our beagle (she's not complaining, PETA, okay?), but won't let Sprite get her hands too close to a door jamb to protect her little fingers. (If you think his reasoning is off, you're obviously not a parent.)

I see this. My mind registers that I see this. So, why do I have to say it? "Make sure she wears a sweater if it gets cold tonight." His automatic reply is usually, "I know" and an eye roll. I know he knows. He knows I know he knows. And now you know I know he knows I know he knows. You know? (No?)

Maybe instead of muting my foresight, I should mute my mouth. (Oh lordy, I can hear him agreeing from across the house.)

Nah, John's life would be much easier. And I don't want that..

(Hm, he's quiet now.)

(That's much better.)

Comments

[Baba]

I use to get the same eye roll when I use to tell dad what not to do. Just wait till your daughter get's older and she knows how to handle her father..... Yea....yea.

[Sprite's Keeper]

And now another fore to add to the list- foreboding...