I'm scared

Raising a child is so scary. You are in complete control of another life. You are responsible for all of the decisions and some of those decisions can have life/death consequences.

This is why I have such a hard time taking the kids to the park by myself and have only done it twice.

Picture this: My son is on top of this gigantic jungle gym that has a stupid fireman pole installed. From the top to the ground is approximately 7 feet. He has squiggled his way up there and I stand on the steps so I can reach through the bars to grab his clothes. In my meanest mommy voice possible I tell him NO, come here! but he heads towards the gap where the pole is anyway. Meanwhile, my daughter has run to the other side and decided to slide down the slide by herself. She takes a quick look, sees that some idiot has left the gate to the play area open and takes off running towards it. On the other side of this gate is green grass and then one of the busiest streets in Coral Gables.

Mom has to make a decision. Do I let go of my son who has no concept of gravity and pray he doesn't take a header onto the ground snapping his neck? Or do I hang on to him and potentially watch my fearless daughter charge out onto the road into traffic. I'm the only one at the playground, the last [asshole] mom that left, left that gate open.

What would you do in this situation?

Today, I'm on a walk with both of my kids. Although I'm not 100% Montessori in my child rearing beliefs I take a lot from that theory. So, when we go on walks, we walk. No stroller. The kids hold my hands and we circle the block stopping to look at lizards or interesting flowers. Anyway, on our walk, my son decides to throw himself down onto the sidewalk because his shoe is very interesting to look at, and he happens to sit next to a patio palm. Patio palms are spiky little stupid plants that have thorns up to an inch. At the same time, my daughter sees a cat. She's able to break free from my hand and starts off to run across the street to get it. Of course, there is also a car coming.

Mom has to bite the bullet and let go of my son and run after my daughter. She tries to run faster but adrenaline can make any mom super-mom. I reach out and grab her and turn back to my son who is sticking his hand into the plant. I scream NO, which only makes him see that I am no longer holding him and he jumps up to run as well.

Somehow I'm able to scoop up my 22 pound daughter and run after him at the same time because just like the buttered side of bread falling on the floor, a child will always run towards the most dangerous thing possible.

I reach my son in time, about 6 inches from the street and thank the heavens, the driver was actually paying attention enough to slow down. Most drivers now a days are texting with one hand while talking on another cell phone with the other.

By the way. Back at the park, I said a quick prayer and chased after my daughter who was already in the grass on her way to the street. My son grabbed the rail beside the gap and just looked down. My prayer worked. Also helping the situation was the yelling coming from my mouth that distracted him enough to look our way instead of looking at the ground.

I'm ready for age 3 to hit when supposedly they start to learn a little fear. Maybe just a little?