"I'm the worst mother in the world!"
We really do believe it...even if we are secretly hoping someone will say, "Oh gosh, no you're not! You're a ___________"(insert: Goddess, Saint, Powerhouse, Queen of Clean, Mrs. Wonderful, Mother Teresa of Mommyhood, My idol, A Dream Come True to any child, etc.) BTW, I like all of those, thank you.
However, all moms, dads, aunts, uncles, Grammies, etc. have moments when they do things that truly and accidentally endanger a child's life, realize they can't be everywhere at once when something dreadful happens, or do something really stupid.
I'm on the latter end today.
So, Ham has fallen off of our bed twice in a week and a half. The first time was pure stupidity. I needed Genius' help on something and went back to the bedroom to enlist him. Ham was in bed with him, playing, and what do we do? We BOTH leave the room to go figure out the
Half way down the hall, we hear a thud and a whimper. Then a full-on cry. I raced back down the hallway....
(I make our hall sound like the one from The Shining.)
Really, it's only about like this:
ANYWAY! I hustled into our bedroom and couldn't see Ham anywhere. I then heard her whimper again and went around to my side of the bed...and almost laughed. There she was, in the midst of two pillows, laying in that awkward position where you are trying to sit up, but can't because whatever your sitting on is too soft...or face it, you've gained too much weight and can't get your fat patootie up.
I cried, "Oh baby!" Mistake. She began crying again and I felt horrible. I lifted her up and cuddled her. It took 10 seconds for her to get over it. At that moment, I was so glad I had thrown the pillows off the bed that morning. I'll bet $100 that she fell off trying to reach anything and everything on my nightstand.
My Genius husband's reaction? "Why did you leave her? I thought you knew she was on the bed!" Come on...of course I knew, but that doesn't mean my brain translates everything into readable code as fast as his computer processor! I was gracious enough not to remind him of the time he pinched Ham's arm in the highchair and gave her a nasty blood clot.
So, the other time she fell off the bed, I was right there. Not helping my case, you say?
She was near the edge of the bed on hubby's side and sat up with her back to the chasm that is our bedroom floor. She just disappeared off the side, with me grabbing at nothing but air. When I peered over the side (she wasn't crying yet) her legs were up against the side and...oh, here. I'll just sketch it out because I can't describe it.
She whimpered a little bit and then she was done.
I was SO glad that she didn't get hurt. (Our bed isn't that far off the ground.) Of course, I picked her up and cuddled her. She lasted 5 seconds and then she pushed me away and wanted to play again.
I hope it's pointless to say that we watch her a lot closer now. We do. I promise.
So, this is my argument of why I am the worst mommy ever, right? NOPE.
The reason I am the worst mommy is because last night, I grilled chicken, steamed veggies and made my absolutely yummy, creamiest mashed potatoes. I though Ham would enjoy a bite of this delicious, buttery (OK, margariney) goodness. I had sampled it several times. I had tested the surface of the serving I was about to give her too see if it was hot...it wasn't. However, when she bit into the piece of potato I didn't know was in there, it was piping hot. It was AWFUL! She wouldn't even drink the cold water I was trying to give her. I can't even write any more about it. That's how bad it was.
You know what Genius said this time? "That wasn't nearly as bad as when I pinched her arm with the highchair tray."
God love him.