War Wounds

In the past 13 months -- since I've been a parent -- I've begun to understand the meanings of many things that I'd heard my entire life but never thought twice about, like "They grow up so fast" and "Having kids will change your life." And in the past few months, since Lola and locke have become so mobile, I've realized the meaning of one more: "I feel your pain." (Oh, sure, I could have used, "It hurts me more than it hurts you," but that one is usually only used in movies when there's a belt precariously positioned over a young lad's behind. We probably won't be using that interpretation with Locke and Lola.)

Locke and Lola have had more bumps, bruises, and cuts since they began walking than I've had in the past decade. It's tough -- especially on me. Every time they fall and I hear that serious cry (not the frustrated "my balance sucks and I'm tired of falling" cry -- the one that you know is real), I nearly have a heart attack. I usually have the phone in my hand, speed dialing the pediatrician, and a crying toddler in the other, even before I've surveyed the damage.

We recently rearranged our living area to give the little walkers more room to roam. The first day, Lola fell against the coffee table and cut her forehead. The next day, Locke fell against an end table and bruised the bridge of his nose, which, as you know, often causes bruising of the eye too. Now, with Lola still in her cast from her thumb surgery, a butterfly bandage on her head, and Locke sporting a black eye, I was scared to death to take them out in public. I was constantly in fear that Child Protective Services was about to tap on my shoulder to ask me a few questions. I'm no Brittany Spears! I'm a good mother!

The day after Locke's accident, I bought enough table edge padding to cover every table in a Las Vegas casino, and Kelly and I spent an entire evening padding every piece of furniture we have. I felt like we were living in a pinball machine. And the next morning, it took all of 30 seconds for Locke to notice it, tear down a corner piece, and start chewing on it. Lumpyhead's mom had a similar experience and pointed out the worthlessness of this particular "childproofing" product in a post, but it was a few days too late for us.

But we're doing much better now. Lola got her cast off and her forehead scar is fading fast. Locke's black eye faded away. They look much better and they're getting more and more sure-footed, too. But there will probably always be some kind of visible bruise. I'm as careful as a mother possibly could be but you can't watch them constantly. Especially with twins. And it will be during that 5 seconds that you take your eyes off of them to change the other's diaper that they'll choose to hurt themselves. It's inevitable. But I'm learning to give myself a break. Because although I take good care of my toddlers, the fact is, they're toddlers. They fall. They get hurt. That's what they do. And what I do is prevent it as often as I can. But when the inevitable happens, I kiss them and comfort them and patch up their wounds, and do whatever I can to make them feel better. Because I'll do anything to make my babies happy. That's another thing I understand now.