I'm not ready for this

Despite the sleepless nights and the downright neediness of infants, there were some things about those early days that were decidedly easy. Specifically, my ability to keep him safe.

Before crawling, walking, running and climbing, he was safe in my arms. Now he's a collage of bumps and bruises to a soundtrack of my muffled gasps and forced smiling choruses of "You're okay!"

Some days it's enough to make me want to clothe him in bubble wrap and a helmet.

There's an entirely different kind of ouch that's on my mind today.

Last week at the park there was a group of older boys (and by older, I mean they were three) playing with a shovels, buckets and a small tractor. Bub has just discovered the delight in scooping and dumping and he was naturally drawn to them.

He tried to help by scooping handfuls of wood chips into the tractor.

Needless to say, they did not take kindly to this intrusion. Get away BAYBEEEE! Get away! No babies! All of this punctuated by pokes with shovels. Bub took this in stride. He smiled, laughed even, and continued to try to join in their fun.

I'm not sure which was more heartbreaking. The boys refusing to allow him to play or his utter obliviousness to their rejection.

I found myself completely unsure of how to proceed. Their mothers (who I know and who know both Bub and me) stood by without reaction. I'm new to the playground game and I don't know the rules.

Short of sitting down with these boys and explaining to them that we include everyone (which would have been wildly successful, I'm sure) I was left with only one option. I scooped Bub up and distracted him with the swings.

He's still at an age where he doesn't get it. The look on his face told me clearly that he was completely unaware of their contempt. But I saw it. I felt it.

When I was younger, a couple of the neighbor girls, who I played with daily, decided on one particular day that I wasn't worthy. I came home in tears and my mom marched me right back over there. (Looking back, how embarrassing for me.) Soon our threesome was restored. Was that the right course of action? Who's to say.

I know I'm not alone in this particular speed bump of motherhood, but there is no handbook, nothing to prepare you for this.

It's naive to think that I can protect him from ever getting hurt. Can any mom help herself from wishing she could wrap their child's feelings in bubble wrap though?