New sights, smells, and dangers
Motherly instinct has kicked into high gear, that's for sure. I can't even go anywhere without being wary of the suspicious character, or abnormally tuned into any dangers that might lurk nearby. I knew this might happen....I just didn't think it'd be happening this quickly. I suppose the moment a child begins to reach and want to explore his or her new world around him or her, dangers come with that, too. Great. One more thing to worry about!
Gardner went with me yesterday to purchase some flowers, soil, and hanging plants to "springify" our house. (Not that it's not springy enough already....the previous home owners must have planted 78 azaleas around our property.) I put a baseball cap on him to keep the direct sun rays off of his face, and placed his little exersaucer in the semi-shade beside me as I worked to transplant the pink zinnias into pots. We weren't outside more than 5 minutes before my bee-radar began to beep mercilessly. (Didn't know I had a "bee radar" until I became responsible for a small little life. Hmmm. The things you learn about yourself.)
It was like a psychological thriller played out in real life. I jerked my head in ten directions, and everywhere....bees, bees. Wasps were migrating towards our gas grill. Hornets were angrily trying to bombard our storage shop. And honeybees were dawdling amidst the clover blossoms....right by my son's happily prancing feet.
"Oh, no you don't." I grabbed him and took off running. The neighbors probably figured I either had to go to the bathroom suddenly, heard my phone ring, or they might have just passed it off as just another "crazy thing those Wilsons do." I dodged the bees for a while, then content that they had settled away from our little square of yard, I put him back and let him play again. Five more minutes...more bees. He looked at me, puzzled, as I snatched him up again and stood on the driveway, the no-fly zone, perhaps.
Many of you would like to know that I am only this paranoid about bees because my family has a history of serious allergic reactions. My mom carries around an epipen for such possibilities, and my Grandpa (her dad) had a very frightening episode four summers ago. Who knows if it was passed down genetically to Gardner, but I'm not going to suppose that it isn't.
As I wearily set him down on the cool, clean, and safe rug in our study, I looked down at him. He still smiled up at me and cooed, lifting one eyebrow as if to say, "I know you just care about me, Mom. No big deal."
This motherhood thing brings new challenges and trials each day. And boy, oh boy, it also brings new issues that you have never had to think about until now. But that's what makes it fun. Keeps you guessing, keeps you running....from bees and other miscellaneous dangers that lurk in your surroundings.
Gardner went with me yesterday to purchase some flowers, soil, and hanging plants to "springify" our house. (Not that it's not springy enough already....the previous home owners must have planted 78 azaleas around our property.) I put a baseball cap on him to keep the direct sun rays off of his face, and placed his little exersaucer in the semi-shade beside me as I worked to transplant the pink zinnias into pots. We weren't outside more than 5 minutes before my bee-radar began to beep mercilessly. (Didn't know I had a "bee radar" until I became responsible for a small little life. Hmmm. The things you learn about yourself.)
It was like a psychological thriller played out in real life. I jerked my head in ten directions, and everywhere....bees, bees. Wasps were migrating towards our gas grill. Hornets were angrily trying to bombard our storage shop. And honeybees were dawdling amidst the clover blossoms....right by my son's happily prancing feet.
"Oh, no you don't." I grabbed him and took off running. The neighbors probably figured I either had to go to the bathroom suddenly, heard my phone ring, or they might have just passed it off as just another "crazy thing those Wilsons do." I dodged the bees for a while, then content that they had settled away from our little square of yard, I put him back and let him play again. Five more minutes...more bees. He looked at me, puzzled, as I snatched him up again and stood on the driveway, the no-fly zone, perhaps.
Many of you would like to know that I am only this paranoid about bees because my family has a history of serious allergic reactions. My mom carries around an epipen for such possibilities, and my Grandpa (her dad) had a very frightening episode four summers ago. Who knows if it was passed down genetically to Gardner, but I'm not going to suppose that it isn't.
As I wearily set him down on the cool, clean, and safe rug in our study, I looked down at him. He still smiled up at me and cooed, lifting one eyebrow as if to say, "I know you just care about me, Mom. No big deal."
This motherhood thing brings new challenges and trials each day. And boy, oh boy, it also brings new issues that you have never had to think about until now. But that's what makes it fun. Keeps you guessing, keeps you running....from bees and other miscellaneous dangers that lurk in your surroundings.
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