There's some kind of intense inner need I have as a parent for things to be perfect for my child, particularly my oldest, my daughter. Not so much in terms of her getting everything she wants, which she doesn't, or never experiencing disappointment, which she of course does and will from time to time. It's more about her being hurt. There's nothing more heartbreaking than for one's child to feel hurt.
She's really into volleyball. Wednesday night her grandparents gifted her a new volleyball. It's probably her most prized possession right now.
Today we played with it in the back, on the driveway. It went over the gate and so we had to go out to get it. She hit it back into the back but we decided to go for a walk where we were out there.
Her mother got home from work just as we started our walk, and I realized Lucy should go get her ball so her mother didn't run it over when she parked in the drive. Lucy ran down to retrieve it but before she could her mother had started opening the gate. The ball got stuck in the gate. Before either of us even realized it was the volleyball, I could see the gate had come off its track and the motor was continuing to try to open, and the belt on the motor was starting to burn up. Why the gate doesn't have an auto-stop feature when it meets a certain amount of resistance is beyond me.
I had to get the volleyball out and then get the gate back up on its track to resolve the situation.
I was already frustrated because her mother seemed completely unaware of what was going on and was just worried about getting the van in. I'm glad the ball survived, though, or I would have lost it. We'd tried to stop her before she got to the gate, we were waving like crazy. She said later, "I thought you were just waving hello." I thought (but did not say), "Frantic waves do not mean 'hello'!"
Because things have to be perfect for my girl. Even her new volleyball.
She's really into volleyball. Wednesday night her grandparents gifted her a new volleyball. It's probably her most prized possession right now.
Today we played with it in the back, on the driveway. It went over the gate and so we had to go out to get it. She hit it back into the back but we decided to go for a walk where we were out there.
Her mother got home from work just as we started our walk, and I realized Lucy should go get her ball so her mother didn't run it over when she parked in the drive. Lucy ran down to retrieve it but before she could her mother had started opening the gate. The ball got stuck in the gate. Before either of us even realized it was the volleyball, I could see the gate had come off its track and the motor was continuing to try to open, and the belt on the motor was starting to burn up. Why the gate doesn't have an auto-stop feature when it meets a certain amount of resistance is beyond me.
I had to get the volleyball out and then get the gate back up on its track to resolve the situation.
I was already frustrated because her mother seemed completely unaware of what was going on and was just worried about getting the van in. I'm glad the ball survived, though, or I would have lost it. We'd tried to stop her before she got to the gate, we were waving like crazy. She said later, "I thought you were just waving hello." I thought (but did not say), "Frantic waves do not mean 'hello'!"
Because things have to be perfect for my girl. Even her new volleyball.