Break Out the Bandaids and a Box of Kleenex

     Middle child, Cam Bam is in his 30's. It seems like only yesterday that I was kissing his boo boos and wiping away tears after an unexpected tumble. Afterwards, I always did my best to make him smile. He was such a daredevil. Since he is my only boy, I often had to fight the urge to be overly protective. I recall a time when Cam Bam was learning how to ride a bike. He had training wheels, although one  the training wheels were uneven which made for a lopsided ride. Somehow he learned to maneuver by leaning to one side of the bike. He never seemed to realize that he was actually riding a two wheeler at times.

     One day, Cam Bam and Bria were outside riding bikes. I was fixing dinner when I heard this ear piercing cry. I ran to the door to see Bria dragging her brother's bike in one hand and her wailing brother in the other. Apparently, Cam Bam was feeling confident enough to take a ride down a steep hill. He hit a rock, which caused him to wobble and lose his balance. Bike and all, he skidded down the hill on his face, shoulder and back. Of course I tried to stay composed but inwardly I was thinking, "Oh my gosh! My baby is bleeding to death." I tried to dab at his injuries as best as I could. All the while I was saying things like, "Wow, Cam you are so brave!" Then I tried a little humor, "I'm not sure if we have enough bandaids to cover all your boo boos." He didn't appreciate my humor. After all, he was covered with road rash and gravel. We didn't want to run the risk of infection so we took him straight to the doctor, who got him to smile as he cleaned and bandaged his wounds. He wore his scars for a long time; kind of like a badge of honor.

     Well, the other day, Cam Bam called me and casually asked if I could pick him up from work. It seems he had rode his bike to work and on his way home hit a patch of sand and skidded. Like last time, he landed on his face. When I saw him, I immediately flashed back to when my 4 year old boy had attempted to conquer that hill. This time though, he wasn't crying, just bleeding pretty good. I fought the urge to wrap him in my arms and console him. Instead I handed him a wad of paper towels and asked if he was okay. Once he cleaned up, I could tell that he would have road tattoos as a reminder, but otherwise, he would be okay.

    Like most moms, I hate when my kids are hurt, sick or in pain. I wish I could take it all away and just make it better. I want to guard my kids, no matter how old they are from the dangers of life, heartbreaking pain and disappointment. I managed to survive and hold it together when Bria had her heart broken for the first time. I fought the urge to want to solve it for her. If it wasn't for Hubby, I probably would've called loser boy to give him a piece of my mind. But, fortunately Bria bounced back better than I imagined.

 
     I'd like to say that I have all the answers when the kids come to me with their problems, but I don't. There are many times that I'm at a loss for words of comfort.

    How do you handle a kid crisis?