It’s only fun until someone loses an eye. That’s the way the saying went when I was a kid, and it was called into service whenever we were doing something that might be a lot of fun, but had a high potential for someone to get hurt. But when you’re a kid, you don’t think anyone will really get hurt. I see it (and say it) now with my kids. Frank wants to go to the park and play tennis; Teresa can stay in her stroller in the tennis court, he suggests. But what if she gets hit with a tennis ball? I ask. That won’t happen, he says. Caroline wants to know why she can’t carry Teresa down our winding stairs. Because it’s too easy to trip and fall, I tell her. She tells me I clearly don’t trust her. I tell her I clearly do — I just see the potential for accidents. Of course, I find that I’m not quite as careful with Teresa as I was with Caroline, my first baby. Now I’ll actually shower while she’s awake – with her strapped into an infant seat on the bathroom floor, where I can still keep an eye on her. I know Teresa will get hurt someday, and I’ll feel awful. I still remember when Caroline rolled off the bed at 9 months old, and when I cut Frank when I was trimming his fingernails. There have been other hurts over the years, of course: skinned knees and falls off bicycles, quarrels and misunderstandings with friends. When Caroline, now 12, hits me with the eternal pre-teen accusation — “Mom, you just don’t understand!” — there’s no way for me to explain that I was in her shoes once, and I do understand. I understand that she will be hurt, and that for the most part, she will heal, just like everyone else. Like every parent, I hope and pray that while there will be the inevitable hurts, none of my kids will suffer any that they can’t come back from. And like every parent, I know that I’ll impose some of those hurts, especially those for their own good. It’s already starting for Teresa, who is due for her first round of immunizations. There’s nothing like holding your sweet little infant, who never did anything to anybody, while someone pokes them with a sharp needle. I know that it will help prevent major illnesses, but there’s no way to explain that to a baby. Just like it’s not easy to persuade a (pre) teenager that sometimes you do know best, not everyone really is doing it (whatever it might be) and the answer is still no. Sufferings such as those are intended to avoid more severe suffering later. But there is no getting away from all suffering. That’s part of the human condition in this world.