I am a mother anxious? Probably yes, but in the right measure.
My son playing and having fun with other children, goes to the park with me or with her father, played asylum in the park with swings, slides, tricycles, bicycles. I have no problem with leaving some family members (grandparents and uncles) and spends most of his day kindergarten where it interacts with a microcosm of children and adults of all kinds. If you happen to get hurt (falls, bangs his head, he fights with that thug Rafael asylum, etc.). I reassure her and try to alleviate the burden of pain by playing down what happened. A bruised knee, a bruise or a slope in the face of Rafael (it goes down this heavy!) are what they are and he can not do a drama. I help him to understand, scaling things at his age have a completely different weight. Well my son is not a hothouse flower.
But the potentially dangerous situations I tend to avoid and have them when I just can not, vigilance. Examples? I do not sgabbelli chairs or under a window, be it open or closed, the street that I want to always give me your hand, do not allow him to climb on furniture, power sockets and the like know that they are to be avoided.
is obvious that they are not always with him or are not always 100% and in these cases I have to delegate. And already there's so much in this delegated of my mother's anxious effort but can not overcome (and being overwhelmed) from his anxiety.
I try to put common sense in what I do and especially pay attention and I expect those who take care of my son (but also other people's children) have the same attitude.
That said mea culpa and I understand why the paternal grandmother, Christmas Eve, a little rest while I knocked on the couch because of withering influence, they pointed out (with my son around!) To throw salt the meat was roasting in the fireplace? The salt in the fire squirts, these grains of salt are splashed in the eye and in the face of my son who has launched a scream like I had never heard me and gave me the feeling of guts ripped from my body. My son was screaming and crying in pain, I was sleeping that have sprung up and running and she told me: "But I thought he was playing." But to what? To see how they scream when it hurts? But we're kidding? And David and all the relatives around even more worried. I send all to hell if you do not calm down no David. It has small marks on his face, and some of the dots just below and above the eyelid.
He felt it was an accident, has not been done on purpose, and success. I think the fear is past, so much so that if they wanted to stay at grandma's house on vacation and has made her an even cried when we had to go away and I moved from so great a display of affection, knowing that is dictated by the fact that his grandparents, paternal or maternal they are, if you intorta properly.
But his paternal grandmother saying? "Ah, but if the mother wants, you can stay, no problem. Ah, but do not cry if the mother is not angry with you. " But keep doing what? To assist in her grandmother's shop? And who the fuck you angry? But are things to be said? And what are the big bad wolf?
For the record, I inform you that the meat was already mentioned on salt, there was no further need to add salt. When one says, "Sceta Capet,"
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