‘I see danger everywhere, my husband laughs everything away’

There was a toddler on the kitchen stairs. Sounds like the beginning of a book, but it was the situation in my backyard not so long ago. Man Erik had done some work, the stairs were still there and son Casper saw his chance. While Erik and I were inside, he cheerfully climbed up to wave two hands on the top step. “Casper is now on top of the stairs”, said Erik, who was the first to spot him.

Slightly hysterical

I seriously thought he was kidding. Not because I can’t imagine Casper doing such a thing, but because I couldn’t imagine anyone just chatting in the living room. So I looked outside and then scared the leper, stormed over to him and plucked him off very quickly.

Erik thought that was slightly hysterical, I in turn did not understand why he just looked on with a smile. What if Casper fell and suffered a whole medical encyclopedia of serious injury? And: didn’t he also have to learn that he shouldn’t climb stairs? If we allow that once … Anyway, let me say we disagreed on the right pedagogical approach. It ended with us deciding not to allow climbing kitchen steps anymore, “If that’s so bad for you.” Because yes, I think that is so bad.

I see danger everywhere

Ever since I had children – and actually before that too, but then it was less noticeable – I have been constantly thinking about what could go wrong. I just see danger everywhere. When we go on vacation, I have imagined that we were killed six times before we even reached the border, not to mention a flight. When Casper crosses a bridge, to his irritation I keep holding his collar the whole time, because soon he will fall through the bars into the water. And take that kitchen stairs. While Erik is praising Casper’s discovering nature at such a moment, I am already working on where the trauma helicopter can land.

Father versus mother issue

Of course, all kinds of open doors apply here, kicked in by various educationalists. It’s a classic father vs. the combination between safety (me) and stimulating to discover the world (he) provides a child who gets to know his limits. That may be the case, but what good is that if my child is pushed into an ambulance bleeding?

The bicycle helmet

The thing is: Erik is a pedigree optimist, I’m more of a bear-and-type. Or actually I am the type: let’s make sure that something goes wrong here. I once interviewed a pediatric trauma surgeon who showed me a bicycle helmet with a crack. “That crack would have been in the skull if there hadn’t been a helmet,” he said ominously. The consequences were of course easy to guess and I decided on the spot to always put on a bicycle helmet to the child that I did not have at all at that time. So it happened.

Then just a harness

I admit: it doesn’t look like much. Casper has more or less grown into his helmet by now (may also be, he is two), Nora of seven months with that thing on her head looks as if she is dragging a dormer with her. But it is safe. “You can cycle, right?” Erik then asks. That is also the case (although I think the handlebar with such a seat on it is top heavy, but good), but you can always meet a madman who cuts you off with a bicycle, car or scooter and then you lie against the curb.

That is also the reason that I never got on a bike with a baby in the sling, a decision that I had to defend here at home with fire and sword. It seemed to Erik nice, and handy, on the bike with baby Nora snuggled up against him. That was not going to happen, because I lay in front of it like a security freak. The idea alone gave me nightmares. It is clear that I look up to the day my children get on the bike themselves. I am considering purchasing a harness.

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Meter-high climbing frame

That immediately comes in handy in the playground, where I always very much hope that Casper will stick with such a cute seesaw. But no, it has to be the highest slide. With such a ladder for which he is still much too small (which in my opinion he will remain until his 25th). So then I lift it to about halfway down the slide, let go and cheer really loud as it goes down. It’s not going to work like that, Erik thinks, and carries him up the scary stairs.

Or then Casper is back on one of those meters high climbing frame with a scary rope bridge, grinning loudly with amusement because in his eyes it only becomes fun when you are at least two meters above the ground. Because I don’t want to be known as a hysteric and can really see that he likes to push his limits (and mine), I don’t immediately pluck him off. And also a bit because I don’t feel like the battle that will be one hundred percent sure. Instead, I let it go and stand under it myself as a kind of living safety net, which might be a nice summary of motherhood in general (at least, for me).

Security kenau

Although, I still have to make a confession. Erik was not at home recently. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I thought: I’m going for a walk. Casper on his moped, one of those hard plastic cases in bright colors that he normally gets along with. I don’t know exactly what went wrong because I was walking in front of him, but in any case there was suddenly loud howling and Casper was lying next to the moped in question. On a path with those little stones. The result: a scrape from his hairline to his chin, blood dripping from his nose and very loud crying. And a mother who felt mega guilty, because why had I, the safety keenau, let this happen?

Kitchen stairs are off limits

I have learned something from it. When I thought about it again, I had to conclude that I cannot always be ahead of everything. I can’t forbid Casper from doing something as simple as a ride on his moped, and I can’t always hang around it like a parachute. At least, it is possible, but it looks a bit silly. Because now the moped is still made of plastic, but what if he is sixteen and wants to take off on a real scooter?

Then he must have learned how far he can go and he does not learn that with his mother as a shield around him (I do order something calming for myself for the day he really has a scooter). So yes. Then maybe a little looser. The kitchen stairs are still off limits, but come on, Casper is allowed on the climbing frame on his own. Now let’s think about whether he will suffer trauma if he is the only one in the playground to wear a helmet.

This article has previously appeared in Kek Mama.

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