Tuesday, June 24, 2014

The Grumpy Tomato

The joys of summer are here.  Long days that seem to go on forever.  Sleeping in till all hours of the day, sometimes till 10 or 11 in the morning.  Sitcom reruns.  Little trips on the river or on the trail.  Sitting inside to enjoy the air conditioning, but also being outside in the sun.  The smell of sunscreen and aloe vera gel alike...

All the joys of summer.


Although Olivia doesn't think so anymore.
The tears on her face as soon as her friend left from dropping her off said it all.

"Mommy, I hurt so bad!"

"I gave you two bottles of sunscreen and even gave you a demonstration as to how to apply it.  Why do you look like a grumpy tomato?"
She immediately broke down and started to bawl.

Can't do anything about the past, but sometimes that child should start listening instead of just saying, "Yeah."

She went swimming two days in a row at a friends house.  I made sure to pack her bag with plenty of sun block and I even showed her how to correctly apply it.  I also told her to have her friend help her with the back so that her back wouldn't get sun burnt either.  I gave her both the spray on kind and the rub on kind. Just so that I could cover any bases.

Did she listen?

Not really, no.

She applied it once, and that was it.  Perhaps I should have stressed the "re-application" part more than 5 or 6 times.  Maybe it would have sunk in at time 7.  I don't know... Maybe she just likes pain.

Her tears tell me that she doesn't like pain.  They tell me so much more than, "It hurts to move at all."
Her tears tell me that she's sorry she didn't heed my advice.  They tell me how sorry she is that she didn't use enough sunblock.  They tell me that she won't be making this same mistake twice this year.  They tell me that she has learned her lesson.

Today's agenda includes application after application of aloe vera gel.  Some Ibuprofen for the pain and maybe something tonight to help her sleep.  Lots of cold (but not frozen) compresses and many hours of TV time.
I do feel quite badly for her.  No good mother wants to see her child in so much agony and discomfort.  It rips a big chunk of my soul every time she uses her muscles to do anything.  I mean she winces when she puts on deodorant.   Poor girl... 

But, there's that tiniest of tiny voice in my head saying, "Hmm... I guess I'm not so full of crap now.  Mommy was right, and you should have listened."  I will never say those words aloud.  She's suffering so much that adding to it would just be torturing the sad and grumpy tomato that my daughter has become...

But, one of these days, probably  *way*   in the future, when she's holding a baby of her own, I'll hear those words...

Those words every mom yearns to hear...

"Mom, you have been right about everything."

That's when I finally realized my own mom wasn't full of it.  That's the moment when all of her words of incredible wisdom and all of those "Because I said so" and "Because I'm your mom" came flooding to my brain...
I was holding Olivia and said (more to myself than anyone),

"Mom was right."

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