Thursday, 11 June 2009


It does not take much to un-seat me, well it does, I need to lose a bit of timber, but figuratively speaking it doesn’t.

The parenting cycle and routine changes subtlety all the live-long-day, and I can just about handle, and have got used to that phenomenon. But when something happens for the first time, and I have not dealt with it in the past, I tend to revert to thinker mode, and many of my other functions are put into stand-by.

It does not have to be a huge change, nor something of huge concern, but still, when I am uncomfortable with an aspect of parenting I tend to get a smidge more serious in my persona.

On Sunday, we had an afternoon out with friends from the village, a rainy day visit to one of our favourite precipitation proof haunts. We had a lovely afternoon, and we joined upon our return home by grandparents, coming over to watch the final of The Apprentice (and just in case my father reads this; Where’s your Debra now punk?).

At bath time it was grandma in favour, and thus she was designated chief bonce and bottom washer.

I was summoned mid-wash process, which usually means I am about to get wet, by either pistol or superhero squirter. But not this time.

My presence was required as Max had declared himself injured.

Apparently he had hurt himself while we were out at the museum, but up until this point, probably about four hours later, had not informed me of his woe.

He was still reluctant to give me the information, and was clutching the injured area – his wrist – to his chest.

When he was eventually coaxed into showing me, I discovered an approximate two inch scratch, no biggie, but worrying him for some reason.

He complained again later, in his sleep. Really got quite upset.

I re-inspected the area, just double checking there was not anything in there, like a splinter. I know how disproportional uncomfortable they can be.

But, no, nothing.

So I probed a bit, which I think actually made it worse. In fact, he decided, he had had enough of my quizzing, and sought comfort with from the visiting grand folk.

In the morning his injury had started to heal, but he was still no keener on showing me, and was only using the one hand, even though – it seemed – there was no physical reason for not using the other.

He then went off for a day out with the folks, and they said he forgot all about it until them came back to ours for tea. Again seeming unwilling to show his small ailment to his father.

The same has been true at nursery this week. No mention of it, until I came to pick him up.

He had murmured about not wanting anyone else to see it, as he did not want them to worry. Then I recalled a recent incident where he did the same.

When we were at the Welsh coast recently, he fell in some stinging nettles, and shielded everyone from seeing the results. But as they quickly subside, as did his shielding, and I forgot of his attitude.

He also mentioned the doctor a few times, and I would not be surprised if he developed a phobia to the doctors after his experience with them.

Last year we got recalled for an injection, as they had messed up in the first instance, so he suffered a bit because of that.

But that was last October, and we have been back a few times, and he has not been overly reluctant.

So I am a little perplexed, and hopeful that this is just an example of his sensitive side.

It is also a reminder to listen for the reason, rather than push for it.



Jo Beaufoix said...

We've had moments like this..where the injury is nothing but the fact it seems to be hard to talk about is more of a concern. Maybe you can come back to it sometime when it feels all better? Or maybe he thinks because you are the person who puts things right, that if he tells you more about it you will act, ie a visit to a doctor or a plaster etc. (Miss M hates plasters.)

It's so hard when it seems like our presence almost makes things harder for them, but if there is something inside his head - his thoughts/worries etc that needs attention then it will come up again, so try not to worry. He'll tell you if he needs to and if not it will soon be forgotten. Hugs.

Jo Beaufoix said...

And is his arm really that hairy?

LouDuk said...

Everyone hates the doctors. No big deal.

Half Mum Half Biscuit said...

I found that so touching. A reminder of how separate our kids our from ourselves, that they are definitely their own person and have a different take on the world, one that we can only guess at. Really poignant too that the little stuff, at one level or another, stands for the big stuff...

Smitten by Britain said...

What is it with boys? Max is only 4 (?) and already he is behaving like my teenage son from whom I must pry every word. ;-) Alas, I'm afraid this might be a growing fear of the doctor. I have memories of Ian being so frightened of getting stitches at 2 that he was secured in a papoose to keep him from wiggling. This did him in and he never liked going to the doctor thereafter. On the other hand, you might consider that Max is either embarrassed to have done something as silly as hurting himself again (nettles story) or he wants to suck it up and be a big boy like his Daddy and not admit that he is hurting. Whatever it is, he is in good hands under your watchful eye and I'm confident everything will be o.k.

SciFi Dad said...

Not saying this is necessarily the case, but around this age they start to experiment with how their actions control others via reactions. Maybe that's part of why it "comes and goes"?

Dan said...

Who knows what goes on in kids minds. Sometimes they take leaps of logic which defy all understanding. There may be some real worry and concern going on under there.

I think you're right, all you can do it listen rather than push.

The Dotterel said...


Belle said...

It is strange. I would have thought that he would want the attention of showing his 'wounds'.

rosiescribble said...

IJ gets embarrassed and for a long time I was not allowed to look. Now I am but she has to be the one who kisses herself better. Kids are strange sometimes and quite baffling.

Liz@Violet Posy said...

That is a little strange, but they all have slightly odd phases. Lily's developed a thing about plasters and won't have them on at all despite bleeding everywhere which I would have thought she'd like less. Kids are weird :)

erin said...

Got me! you being ahead of me on the life of a parent, I look to your blogs for what to expect in the future.
Yikes. Is it broken?

Not a soccer mom said...

It is a bit odd to not want attention for a sore. But maybe with all the 'dad' and 'granddad' interactions lately, he is feeling as though he needs to be tougher and manlier. Thus getting a bit of 'oh darn' attention would make him feel more childlike? Just a thought.

My son grew up in a house of women, myself and my daughters and felt the need to prove his manhood. To this day at age 19 he is still acting the man of the house, checking in on his sisters, ignoring pain etc...

Kat said...

I wonder if the soap in the water made it sting?

SandyCalico said...

How strange. I'm sure he has his reasons.

Award for you at mine :-)

Single Parent Dad said...

Jo Beaufoix - He was pleased to report yesterday that it had completely healed, and to confirm, his arm is not that hairy.

LouDuk - I hope so.

Half Mum Half Biscuit - Yes. Mindful that this little incident could mean a lot more.

Smitten by Britain - Thank you for sharing.

SciFi Dad - Nah. Don't think so. It is specifically hidden from me.

Dan - Glad you agree.

The Dotterel - Cheers.

Belle - I know. That's what I thought.

Rosie - Too true, and cute.

Liz@Violet Posy - As are adults.

Erin - Just a glitch I hope.

Not a soccer mom - Possibly, but he really isn't usually shy to show his emotions. And I am hardly rough and ready.

Kat - I think that's what force his hand, or wrist, to tell me.

SandyCalico - Thank you.

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