On love and loss

Today I went to Target with my son. There are two things wrong with that sentence but such is life. We wandered up and down the aisles discovering all the many, many things we suddenly, desperately needed in our lives, including Say Yes to Carrots face wipes and Annie's chocolate grams. Target is powerful, man. At one point the little monkey got incredibly restless and his pleas of "up, up, up, uuuuuup!" could no longer be ignored. I can only take so many fierce side glances from elderly ladies and their carts filled with raisins.

Of course, I made the rookie mistake of letting him loose in the toy aisle. I looked down at my phone to check my husband's scintillating answer to my query whether we needed more toilet paper. Indeed. In that ten second span, my little roadrunner took off. I called his name after I couldn't find him in the nearest aisles. This is his favorite game lately, watching me look for him and smirking until I come running after him, trilling "I'm gonna get you (sucka)." Unfortunately, I think we've got a ways to go with this as my mother repeatedly tells me how I would purposely get lost in department stores, museums and even Disney World! Oh, my poor mom. It's a wonder she didn't leave me for the wolves.

I tried to keep the fear out of my voice as I shouted his name and asked him to please come find mommy. Yes, it was only a few seconds, but there were tons of people around and about a million different hiding places for him. Something just scared me to the core and I had a horrifying feeling that I would never see his blondie head again. I ran threw the baby section and found him playing with women's sports bras. Once a boob man...My heart was racing and I begged him never to do that again. So much for keeping my cool so he doesn't keep doing it for attention.

I just kept thinking back to all the articles I've read in recent days about the horrifying Trayvon Martin case. One fact in particular shook me so deeply-his father called the police department to file a missing persons report and only then learned of his son's death. The story is tragic on so many levels but, as a parent, I can't get beyond the notion of waiting for your son to return home, fearing the worst and then having something so much further than the worst be confirmed.

Double dog dares

Now that I am permanently toting around a mini me, I find myself becoming more and more risk averse. Not that I was living on the edge so much before, but now I can hardly bring myself to look over it. Earlier today, I watched two people (of course, I assumed men--bad gendered thinking) swimming incredibly far out in the ocean. I was so nervous, I made us stay on the beach long enough to see them come safely onto the shore. I just don't see that happening for me anymore (ignoring the fact that on my best day, I probably couldn't get halfway to where they were-that whole holding your breath thing is so tedious). At this point, I'm starting to realize that scuba diving, sky diving...basically all manner of diving is off the table along with any other thrill-seeking activities.

A few years ago, I watched a documentary about people who climb Mt. Everest. While I was impressed with their determination and amazing stamina, the whole time I kept thinking "Are these people effing nuts??" Some of the climbers lost fingers and/or toes to frostbite and even watched others die during the trek. Why is climbing a mountain worth risking your life? And, I'll never understand why there are so many people skiing/boarding without helmets, but riding right next to their kids who are wearing them. Talk about setting a good example. Surely there are better ways to achieve the windswept look.

Perhaps this is just a new mom phase that I'll grow out of once I create more separation between me and him (roughly, what, 25 years these days?) I also think it might have something to do with getting older and knowing so many folks who are struggling to maintain their health and well-being. I suppose every action poses inherent risks and it's all about finding the balance between potential pleasure and potential pain. On some level, I feel like it's just selfish to tempt fate when it's been pretty good to me so far.