Gianna overheated at her soccer game this afternoon. Playing in the Florida sun/heat is no joke right now. I don’t think they should have games between the hours of 12-5. It’s like the surface of the sun. Her face flushed, she got carried off the field. They iced her, monitored her vitals, and was out for the rest of the game.
Her dad was there. He got to watch them take care of our baby. Make sure she was ok. He had to text me to ask what her normal blood pressure was. I had it. Because I’m her mom.
I wasn’t there.
I wasn’t there because I’m also Evie’s mom. And Scarlett’s mom. I needed to take care of their needs today. Both of them spent all day yesterday in the heat, watching G play 2 games in her tournament. They were hot and tired. It was a long day. Evie barely slept. She was a beast. I needed to give them both a break today.
I know I’m not wrong for not being there. But dammit if I don’t have this little pit in my stomach that feels like shit that I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have done anything different than Vince. He was there and made sure she was taken care of. But I’m so used to being THE ONE.
The one with the blood pressure numbers. The one that looks up signs of heatstroke. The one that holds ice to cool her down. The one that rubs her back and tells her to breath deep. But today, I was the one that wasn’t there. And, because I’m only one person and a mom to 3, I have to be OK with that. Sometimes, I guess, I can only be THE ONE, one kid at a time.