Parenting 911
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as I waited for the vehicles in front of me to start moving. The sun was hot, directly above my head, I thought idly and glanced into the back seat at my daughter who lay on the seat in deep slumber. I hoped that her fever would not be affected further by the hot sun. I however took comfort in the fact that she was now on medication. That should help reduce the fever that had raged within her throughout the night.
The doctor had diagnosed a throat infection and had prescribed Zinnat. That should do the trick, I consoled myself. My confidence in Zinnat’s fast effect helped me to feel settled about the fact that I would have to leave her soon after taking her home. I needed to return to work. There was so much to be done there too .. If only the jam would clear soon. I did not want my boss to have something to be cross with me about.
When we eventually got near our compound, I started for my house girl to open the gates; which she did. She then returned to the house. I hurriedly shot out of the car, pressing the automatic key to lock the car door and rushed into the cool relief of the house. I made my way fast into the kitchen where my house girl was busy preparing lunch.
“Where is Wangari?’, I asked her. But even as the words left my mouth, I got this horrible sinking realization that I had done the unthinkable. I had actually locked my two year old daughter in the steaming confines of the car. She has a fever, I panicked! If something happened, I mumbled as I made a mad rush to the car outside, not waiting for the house girl’s response. If something happened, the mumble became a loud whisper then turned into a prayer as I yanked the car door open and gazed into the teary face of my daughter who had woken up and found herself alone. I scooped her into my arms and swayed back and forth consoling her, thanking God. What kind of a mother am I? How could I forget her?
I have often thought about what could have happened. What if I had walked away from the car into a building and had not remembered that she lay in the car. I would never have forgiven myself. The thought of what could have happened became even more scary when I heard about a mother who went with a month old baby to work, then left the baby in the parked car under sweltering heat only to return in the evening to a corpse. I also read about a mother who took her daughter to a swing, went briefly into the house then came back to tragedy.
My near disaster and these other stories have made me realize that every baby that comes our way gives us plenty of opportunities to create disasters. That our kids eventually grow up and join kindergarten; then class one, then high school, university and become responsible for their own lives speaks volumes about providence’s mercies on us mortals. When parents sit at their daughters or sons wedding ceremonies and see them become someone else’s responsibility, I can imagine the sigh of relief that all let out, thankful that things turned out so okay.
When I peruse a pregnancy or baby magazine, I am met with stories of joy and celebration on arrival of these bundles of joy and bouncing babies. I often think – hold on, parenting is not always that easy. It is a most scary thing, parenting.
I am not here to put a damper on those anticipating their bundles of joy, but instead to voice those fears that we hardly ever mention and also to celebrate the many success stories of babies who have become adults despite the potential for things going wrong.
I am today kinder to women who have to handle family and work and society and still manage to bring up undented little ones. I am kind too to the mother who enters a matatu and gets her child’s head bruised by the matatu door. I take comfort in the knowledge that the regular parent loves his or her child and would not want them hurt. I feel offended when people gang up on a parent when she or he accidentally leaves a child across the street or behind when alighting from a public vehicle. I have realized that we may be bigger than the kids, but the fact is parents don’t always know what they should be doing.
Yet despite the fears that come with parenting, the joy of parenting is real. There is nothing comparable to holding your bundle of joy in your arms that first time; or the singing of the spirit when that angel finally recognizes you enough to gurgle at your sight; or when your kindergartner brings home the painting they have done of mommy and daddy for his class project.
Enjoying these does not mean we pretend the fears do not exist, it means we acknowledge the fears then insure them, because there is nothing else we can do. And we should insure them in faith – the faith that providence knows we really are not equal to the task, but we will manage because of faith.
END: BL 38/37