100 & Rightiest

Today is my 100th post since Rain was born. That's just madness.

Carry on.

So, a moment of reflection is in order, I'm sure. After an incident today, I thought about what the hardest thing about parenting is. I'm sure it's different for everybody, but for me it's "rightiest." Look, I'm a Type B+ personality (not quite as psycho as an A, but definitely prone to overdoing stuff), and that means I'm always torn between doing what's right and rightiest.

Oh, I know my fellow grammarians (halla if you love semicolons) are shouting, "There is no such word!" But, my syntax-loving brethren, let me explain. Sometimes I find myself debating what I think is right versus what I feel is right. I can't say one is "more right," because then it feels like I'm saying one choice is wrong. Neither choice seems wrong, but one seems rightier. For example, let's say I'm working on a business project at home. After a few minutes, I really get into it, and here comes Rain. She toddles in with her two very cute teeth, a smile, and a look like, "So ... are we going outside now? I've been playing quietly for a while now." She got these big cheeks, right? And she's all giggling like, "How fun am I? Who wouldn't want to play with me?" There I am thinking about all the work I have to do. Don't I want to show her a good work ethic by example? Don't I want her to be independent? Isn't some of the money we make going into her piggy bank (and by "piggy bank" I mean high-interest-yielding online savings fund) after all?
It's not that working is bad. Playing with Rain definitely isn't wrong. But what's rightiest?? Let's say someone always picks up extra hours at work to save for her kid's education or just to buy fun stuff for her. Nothing wrong with that. But, if she starts missing all her kid's ball games and whatnot because she works, well, now she's skipping out on good things. Then I'm thinking, "That is SO me. I could work every weekend to pay for Rain's college, and then when I turn 40, someone will hit me with a car. I'll miss all her Saturday games, and still not see her graduate!"

That kind of thinking is downright dangerous. I mean physically dangerous. Several times in Rain's short life I have made bad choices because I get distracted doing something that I think is best. The choice wasn't bad, but it definitely wasn't the rightiest.

Today Rain & I went out for our daily walk. I did the whole mommy thing & put Rain in shorts, bathed her in SPF 50, & brought a sufficient water supply (plus snacks). I put her in her stroller for 15 minutes, then let her walk beside me. She toddled down the sidewalk and walked all over the grass in her spiffy new leather shoes (softies for newbie walkers). After forty minutes, I decided it was time to come in. The heat was too much, & Rain looked sleepy. We were playing in the grassy field in front of our apartment, so thankfully, the walk home would be short.

I was about to slip Rain into her stroller when I noticed a large spider sitting on the fabric hood. I put Rain down next to me and told her, "Mommy has to get this guy out of your seat, then we'll go home." I shook the fabric for a second, but the spider didn't move. I frowned, shook the fabric again, and the spider jumped to the grass.

"Yay!" I said to Rain.

Who was no longer there.

I looked up, and there Rain was, toddling 12-15 feet from me. In the few seconds I was messing with the spider, Rain had run towards our apartment door. The front of our first-floor apartment is much lower than the surrounding landscape, so it looks as if you're going underground when you walk up to our door. The problem was that to get to our apartment Rain would have go down a stairwell. On either side of this stairwell is a 3-4 ft drop-off. Below that is nothing but cement and stone landscaping.

As I saw Rain toddle towards the edge of the drop-off, 3 things happened:

One, even though I took off running, I knew I would never make it. She was too far ahead of me.

Two, I felt instant guilt. This is the day, I thought, where I screw up our lives. She'll break her neck, and I'll kill myself.

Three, I screamed, "RAINNNNN!"

Now, when I say, "Rain!" from time to time--let's say, when she runs off with my car keys--Rain always runs faster. Even when I'm annoyed because she's spilling something across the carpet, she runs because she thinks it's a game. To her, calling after her is a sign you want to play chase.

But, when I shouted, "RAINNNNN!" I tell you my soul was in it. I screamed that scream that people do when horror is inevitable. Anyone outside probably turned to look.

Rain stopped, looked back at me, and I tackled her. I was thrilled, mad, happy, & scared. "Thank you, God!" I said. I told Rain, "Your Father was watching out for you, because your mommy is an idiot." I know I'm not an idiot, but I felt like one. I was mad for making the right decision to rid Rain's stroller of the spider, but not the rightiest one: watching her. I should've held her hand while I was distracted or kept her in front of me. Every few weeks something like that happens, and I feel lousy. I try to do the right thing but plenty of times it's not the rightiest thing.

... Wowzers, I could never be an inspirational speaker. I'm getting a weight off my chest by tossing it on my back! Yikes. Ok, on the upside, welp, Rain's a pretty happy & healthy kid. During the 99 posts before this, I can say Rain & me have had a great, although unpredictable, time. The only one who could say anything different would be Rain.

And she can't type.