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The Long Arm of the Maw
by Cheryl Gochnauer, Homebodies.org

Before I had kids, I used to gasp at those harnesses some mall mothers
attach to their wandering children.  You know, the ones that look like
little doggie leashes.

I kept expecting a harnessed toddler to flop on his back and struggle out of
his restraint like a double-jointed cat, whipping this way and that until he
was free.  But usually both mother and child would pass by, one confidently
holding the loop while the other explored the outer boundary of his tethered
world.

"Child abuse," I'd whisper to another knowing, and likewise childless,
friend.  We frowned as the odd couple went on their way.

Since the birth of my own rambunctious offspring, I've lost my superior
attitude.

You haven't really experienced parenthood until you've chased your
two-year-old down the aisle at Piggly Wiggly.  It takes an octopus,
salvaging teetering bottles and replacing tumbled cereal boxes while
pursuing the mini-escapee.  After planting my runaway securely in the
grocery cart, I'd roll a few feet, step away for just a second, then return
to a basketful of squished bread and oozing, teethmarked bananas.

And I prayed for this baby.

Leashes at the mall began to make sense as I'd catch my daughter scaling the
upper tier railing at the local shopping center.  From within the circular
clothes rack at department stores, she'd grin as I frantically searched for
her.  "Peek-a-boo, Mommy!"

No knick-knack had a life expectancy over five minutes when my toddler was
in the room.  Nervous hostesses eyed us as I steered my baby away from
breakables, with more sturdy items strung in her wobbly wake.

With another year came more opportunities to reach out and touch my child -
before she careened her Big Wheel out into the street, for instance.  Or
when she realized it was easier to climb up the phonebooks and pillows piled
on a chair than it was to maneuver back down once she was finished riffling
the kitchen cabinets.

I'm not sure when moms are supposed to reel in their tentacles.  My toddler
has grown to a preteen.  Thankfully, she's no longer knocking boxes off
store shelves, although she still grabs sweets and stows them in the cart.
My emphasis now is navigating her away from negative attitudes and opinions,
while piloting her toward that which is good in life.  I wish there was a
leash I could use to keep her within those boundaries!

She has a mom who loves her, though.  Hopefully, she will respond to my
gentle harness.

Comments?  Email Cheryl@homebodies.org, or visit her website at
www.homebodies.org.  

copyright 2003 Cheryl Gochnauer - All rights reserved.

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