We tend to follow to the school of parenting that minimalizes things:
Did you bump your head? We'll give it a nice gentle rub and a big kiss.
Is there an owie? Here's a bandaid. Are you sure you need a bandaid? Is it bleeding? Can I just give it a kiss and it will be all better? Okay.
Michael heard a comedian, Alex Cole, do a routine many years ago.
explained that a magic way to cure any "owie" is to rub it three times
and say "owie owie owie DING!" And we still use that wisdom. There's a hand
motion to the "ding" part, by the way. It's all in the showmanship.
We're not callous. We dole out kisses and gentle pats and caresses. We hug and we wipe tears.
But we tend not to make a big deal of things.
"Are you bleeding?" is frequently how we start a conversation with children who come downstairs after bedtime shema and kisses.
Today, Solly got a little bump - I don't even remember what he was doing, it wasn't that big of a deal -- and I gave his little kepele (Yiddish for "little head") a little kiss. "It's okay," I said. And he waddled off...
And as I breathed in his baby scent, I realized that leukemia just doesn't work that way.
There's no owie owie owie ding.
It would be much easier if there was...
Sometimes a hat and a visit from Dad seem quite curative, though.