My first run-in with independence happened about three years ago with Quentin. We were at a football practice (which we often were, as my ex-husband is a college football coach) and Quentin was off with his friends on the opposite side of the field from me, playing on the old bleachers. I told him that I didn't want him going up and down the steps because it was dangerous. So the boys were running around and playing under the bleachers. At one point I looked over and couldn't find Quentin. I started scanning the area, trying to see if he was hiding under the bleachers somewhere when I heard a scream. Now, I am not a runner but at that moment I ran like a gazelle down the bleachers I was sitting in, across the field and over to the other bleachers! There I found Quentin dangling, his head stuck between the floor of the bleachers and the front rail. His head was so wedged in there that it seriously took almost the entire football team pulling the rail out away from the bleachers to get him unstuck. I felt like such a horrible mother to have let something like that happen. But then I realized, bad things are going to happen whether you are there or not. That is just the way life goes.
My second mishap happened about two years ago with Camille. Again, we were at football practice, only this time it was an evening practice so it was dark. The girls were having a great time playing and rolling down a big hill with their friends and I would occasionally go check on them. However, the last time that I went to check on them, I didn't see Camille. When I asked the other girls where Camille was, no one seemed to know. Immediately, I started searching around the stadium (which is all fenced in) for her but was having no luck finding her. I even went outside of the fenced area to see if she had wandered out into the parking lot but I still couldn't find her. At that point I was starting to panic because on one side of the stadium is a nature trail with big drop-offs and on the other side is a pond. My mind was racing, so I quickly went back into the stadium and got my sister. At this time practice was getting over and it wasn't long before everyone was out scouring the area looking for Camille. Finally I went into the football offices to call campus security, hoping that maybe she was wandering around and they found her. It was then that someone came in from the attached weight room and told us that they could hear someone crying in the bathrooms. We raced back there and found Camille screaming and crying in a dark bathroom. She had somehow gotten into the building to go to the bathroom but then couldn't get the door back open to get out. After a while the motion-sensored lights had shut off leaving her stuck in the dark. I was so relieved but, again feeling like an awful parent and wondering what must these coaches and players think of me?!
This then brings me to my latest adventure with Zoe. Now, I am sure that you will soon discover through my blogging that Zoe is, by far, my most challenging child. I never underestimate her and have even come to expect the worst, simply so that I can be prepared for whatever she might throw at me. Last night at Quentin's baseball practice (why do these things always seem to happen at a practice?!?), Zoe needed to go to the restroom. So I got Camille and the three of us started to make our way to the other side of the park. There was a paved path that took us down a hill, across a swampy area, and over to the restrooms. As we reached the bottom of the hill, I was talking to the girls about how nasty the water looked because it was full of algae. At that moment I watched Zoe move away from me towards the water. She started down a small slope and as I told her to back up and not get too close, she put her foot out and dropped in. For a moment, I stood there in shock and then had to jump into action as she was completely submerged in the disgusting green water. I quickly pulled her, screaming and crying, out of the water and back up the hill to Quentin's practice. There, I found another parent and explained to her what had happened and that I needed to leave to go get Zoe clean. She agreed to call me if practice got over before I could get back. I packed Camille and Zoe, still screaming and crying, in the car and headed home to get her cleaned up.
This was the first major mishap that I have had to experience as a single parent and, honestly, it was all I could do not to call my ex and ask for his help. But I told myself that this was one of those things that I needed to learn to do alone. As with every other "first" that I have experienced over the past couple of years, everything worked out fine and I believe I am a better person for it. I'll just add algae remover to my resume; I mean how many people can do that?!
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