"Who says parenthood isn't a full contact sport?"

Nick smiles at me and I laugh despite the icepack on my face.

"Do you mind getting me a beer?" I ask my husband. "Or a shot of whiskey?" I sit in the glider rocker in the corner of Olive's room, as far away from our kids as I could get without walking out of the house.

A moment earlier:

Elias, Olive and I play the "jumping game" in the living room. The kids take turns climbing onto the ottoman and jumping across my lap onto the couch.

Elias leaps when I'm looking the other way, watching Olive climb down. His bony little elbow clocks me right in the nose.

I broke my nose a few years back when I took a man's shot in the face during a soccer game. A nose never really heals.

I throw Elias off me and practically howl. I cover my face and bolt, sobbing, to the other side of the house, where Nick finds me.

"Do you want both?" Nick asks from the doorway.

"Yeah, I was just gonna say, actually I want both."

Something about your own child smacking you in the face feels raw.

A much more emotional pain than getting hit with a soccer ball. Accident or not, it's your baby hurting you, this child you have turned your life over to since his birth, often meeting his needs before your own, giving, caring, loving, and WHAM.

I hold my old Paddington Bear to my chest, and think about all the ways children hurt their parents over the years, by accident or not...

And I know this is only the beginning.

Some day Olive will march into this very room and yell, "I hate you! I wish you weren't my mother!" as she slams the door.  Elias will hit me in the head with his cane. On purpose.

Who knows the heartache that lies ahead. How many times will I want to throw my children off me, cover my face, and cry as I turn away?

Who knows.

This I know: It's worth it.

Earlier today, I bruised my knee playing soccer. Justin and I turned at the same time and our legs collided. We both kept playing. I considered quitting, not because my knee hurt but because one of my teammates kept yelling at the rest of us, throwing his hands in the air, rolling his eyes, I didn't need to be berated on a Sunday afternoon. By a teammate. In a pick-up game.

But I kept playing.

Because I love contact sports.

And I love my children, icepacks and all.

Comments

[Dayna]

Was it my husband? Sorry. Hope you were able to have some fun at soccer.

[Christy]

Oh you know him well Dayna:) I haven't seen him like that for awhile; you know he's grown on me over the years and I know he's not the a-hole he pretends to be, he just is a little more intense about his love for soccer than I am. And yes, I always have fun playing:)

[Hairy Farmer Family]

Owwwwwch. I do sympathise. Throughout the voiceless years, Harry headbutted me on a awfully regular basis. It hurt like a bugger, and always used to make me want to curl up and cry, both from the OHMYGODPAIN and the wounded feelings.

Hope the whiskey was helpful!

[Steve]

Tell me it was somebody else that busted your schnoz! Sorry about the obnoxiousness this weekend, I didn't expect to play so crummy. I'll just kick Adam next time - that feels better anyway. Don't boycott anything because of me...see you Sunday!

[Christy]

HFF: Thanks for getting it, and glad to know the head-butting has ceased. Whiskey, in moderation, always helps:)

Steve, No it wasn't you who broke my nose, luckily when I got your shot in the face it it hit my eye socket so I got a good shiner but no broken nose. I broke my nose a few years ago when we played in the coed summer league. And as to Sunday soccer, even when you are in your worst of moods, you won't make me boycott coming, I just may leave a little more frustrated than normal b/c I take all your negative energy as if I am the one playing poorly not you-- to me you are always the one who can dribble through everyone and score at will. Hope to see you Sunday! Oh yeah, and I support you kicking Adam next time:)

[fleming]

love the friendly competitive banter! team sports are where so many great life lessons are learned and where so many permanent scars are born! The physical pain is so much easier to bear than the emotional kind. I hope Elias gave you a hug and said he was sorry even if the comprehension doesn't come until later. feel better!

[Christy]

Fleming, he did snuggle up to me when I finally left Olive's room, his way of saying sorry. And so true, I'd take physical pain any day over the emotional kind. Miss playing sports with you my friend. Had a hockey game tonight and we finally beat our rival team 6-3. Felt great!

[Tabatha]

A child (not mine) gave me a bloody nose once that hurt so bad, I remember making these horrible keening noises that I couldn't stop. Awful.

I want to reassure you that having your kids say mean/hateful things to you is NOT inevitable. My kids are 16, 13, and 10, and we don't have any of that. Your kids may cause you plenty of worry, but they aren't necessarily going to *try* to hurt you.

[DiVaughn]

Evan is as clumsy as the day is long. Poor kid. My last pair of glasses (three years ago) I bought with the flex-frames because he would knock me upside the head and I'd have to go get the glasses adjusted at least once a week. With the flex-frames, it's more like every six weeks. :) I think we've all been there. It does get better.

I started a new full-time job three weeks ago, after being a stay-home parent for close to eleven years...and we lost our laptop (and all my bookmarks) at the end of August. The laptop is replaced and I'm slowly discovering time to use the internet again. I've missed your family. :)

[Christy]

Welcome back DiVaughn! Hope the transition back to full-time work is going as well as it can be. Glad to know the full body contact gets better.

And Tabatha, I love hearing about the potential for a peaceful household as my kids age. I went through a long period of door-slamming and "hating" my mom so I often assume that every child will go through this phase. Another vision is nice to hold:)