Jonathan's Bloody Nose

Last night Jonathan tripped and fell flat on his face. I heard him cry and he walked down the hallway towards me with blood coming out of his nose and mouth. Inside, I was flipping out! But I went into Mommy mode and started talking to him in a calm, soothing voice and trying to distract him, all the while trying to figure out what on earth had happened to him. Dave was in the room and he filled me in: he tripped, and fell flat on his face. No mystery there. Next came the fun game of trying to figure out if the blood was coming from his nose or his mouth or both... what was actually hurt? Jonathan was so cute during the whole thing... He whimpered and said, "I don't like blooding noses!" And "Will you just sit with me, Mama?" He did not want us to apply any pressure to his nose because it hurt, so we just had to sit and wait for his blood to clot up and stop on his own. I kept him home from school today, because if they were concerned about the green snot of Anna's on Wednesday, I can just imagine if Jonathan sneezed and blood flew everywhere (which did happen)! I used to get bloody noses all the time as a child, and I have one really bad memory from preschool. The teachers wanted me to tilt my head back so all the blood ran down into my stomach and I got super sick and I was hysterical and wanted my mother (which was pretty much the case whenever I was apart from my Mom anyways, bloody nose or not). It was also really embarrassing.
Today his nose started bleeding again, and he had it all down his shirt and it dripped on his toes. He looked down at his feet later on and said, "Oh, I don't like dried bleeding on me." I lOVE the way Jonathan talks. Instead of dried blood, it was dried bleeding. "I hate blooding noses," he says, instead of bloody noses. He's so funny.
I have been accused of favoring Anna, and maybe she is just a little more sparkly (and LOUD)and tends to grab my attention more, but I have to say, as far as Jonathan goes, that kid is my heart. I just love him so much. He is so completely himself in a way that he has always been, even as a newborn baby. He is just so special and so neat. I adore him and I love having conversations with him and I love watching him get smarter by the day. He is just the best.

Something I was thinking about just now.... I started to think about it when I mentioned my own bloody nose at Preschool. I was super close to my Mom as a kid. I loved her so much, she was the center of my whole world and I never wanted to be away from her (and I basically never was, until Kindergarten came, which was VERY traumatic for me; I was still freaking out by the time THIRD GRADE rolled around, crying every morning at drop off... it was a little nuts). I literally had anxiety when I was not near her. I was so worried about her.
Well, I was thinking about how I always question, do my kids love me enough? do they know I am their mother? Do I love my kids enough? Is our relationship close like it should be? Do I really act like their mother? Do they know I am their Mom? (I know, this sounds insane, who else would they think their mother would be?) Are we bonded appropriately???
This is something I have struggled with since the day Jonathan was born. He was always so easygoing and secure and never seemed to mind being away from me. And it freaked me out!
But I just realized that maybe my relationship with my kids has always been totally fine, even normal. They are just well-adjusted and independent. They feel safe being away from me. They have their own daily agendas, thoughts and ideas and motivations of their very own, and their world does not revolve around me (I spent MUCH of my childhood very focused on my Mom). They are already their own little people, and while I do have a responsiblity to guide them on their way, my life story and their life stories, while intertwined, are still separate stories, unique to each of us. And I think that's a good thing. Maybe I have always worried, do I love them enough, do they love me enough, because I have always been comparing it to my own relationship with my own Mom, which was good in many ways, but maybe a tad on the dysfunctional, too-close end of the spectrum of parent-child relationships. How in the world did I get on this tangent? This seems like something better discussed with my therapist than blogged about at close to midnight! I am so tired I am making sense to myself, but can't tell if I am making sense to anyone else. So, good night, those of you who have hung in there till the end of this ramble!