Friday, April 03, 2009

Forget the cowbell. We need more guilt!

Yesterday my son was at home, not at daycare. He was supposed to be spending time with his loving, attentive mother, the one who only has one baby and can therefore immediately respond to his every need. The care she provides at home is so superior to that available at the daycare. Remember?

That mother laid her baby on the bed and surrounded him with pillows. She walked four feet away to the bathroom sink, the baby still in view. As she bent over the sink and was washing her face, she heard a sickening thud.

There he was, face down on the floor. The unforgiving hardwoord floor. The hardwood floor that was there because she had insisted upon ripping up the carpet.

I don't even remember running to him. I was just there, and he was in my arms before he'd even gathered enough enough breath to scream. I quickly checked for blood, for arms that bent the wrong way, for focused eyes. I apologized over and over. He cried; I cried.

We were due at the pediatrician's office at 10:00 anyhow, but it was only 9:00 and I was too worried to wait. I called the nurse help line to see if I should go to the emergency room. Lion's screams were so loud, I could barely hear her.

Bring him in to the office now, she said.

I laid him in his crib and raced to get the diaper bag. What if the pediatrician sent us to the hospital? I stuffed a week's worth of diapers and wipes into the bag, a pair of pajamas, his favorite tiger blanket. I stuffed my fuzzy-socked feet into my Nikes and threw a coat on over my pajamas. I gingerly picked up the still-sobbing baby and got him into the car.

Baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby.

The instant I started driving, he fell into an exhausted slumber.

When we got to the pediatrician's office, I gently woke him and carried him inside. He smiled at the receptionist.

"Uh," I said, trying to speak quietly so the other waiting parents wouldn't find out what a horrible mother I am. "We were supposed to come at 10:00 for two vaccinations, but he fell off the bed and was screaming and the nurse told me to bring him in right away."

She looked at Lion and smiled. "Were you doing your Humpty Dumpty impersonation?"

His grin grew wider, revealing his two bottom teeth. His teeth! I hadn't even thought to check his teeth.

"Ghee!" he declared.

As we sat in the waiting area, I noticed that Lion's pants and shirt were messy from the morning's oatmeal. His fingernails needed trimming. His nose was running. Oh, AND he had just fallen off my bed and landed head-first on the floor.

I was feeling better and better.

We were called back a minute later, where I had to describe to a nurse and then the pediatrician how he fell off the bed, and how high off the ground it was, and how he had fallen onto hardwood floors. My voice wavered each time, but Lion was beaming and happily waving a toungue depressor around in his little fist.

He was fine. He is fine. But I think it'll take me a few more days to recover.

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7 Comments:

Blogger Bearette24 said...

oh god. i'm glad he's fine. we also have hardwood floors.

5:19 PM  
Blogger His suzy said...

You know, I knew just by the title of this post that things were okay, but my stomach still dropped reading about it.

I'm so glad that Lion's okay!! And I hope you'll be okay soon too. :)

5:36 PM  
Blogger Roxanne said...

We've all been there at some time or another. Whether it happens at 6 months or 5 years or 17. Believe me, you are not along in this. Of course at the time you feel like you must be THE ONLY BAD MOMMY in the universe.

By the way, love the fuzzy socks. :)

Also, when I read the title I saw quilt instead of guilt!

11:23 AM  
Blogger BabelBabe said...

by the time you have four, this will be old hat. I have dropped children off the beds and couch, run into the doorjamb with one, dropped one out of his carseat (I thought he was buckled in) and then tripped over him for good measure, as I was rushing to his brother who'd just split his eyebrow on the swing (TRUE STORY).

I slipped getting Q out of the van this winter and saved the baby in my arms, but landed full force on my elbow and the wound is still healing.

And I am not even TRYING. I mean, for Pete's sake, it's a wonder children whose parents don't even worry about it survive.

My ped told me that everyone does it; that as long as they are wailing, they are generally ok; and to go to the ER if *I* needed to.

Give Liin a kiss for me. And Q says, "Ghee!" to him. Now go have a glass of wine.

1:20 PM  
Blogger Bearette24 said...

I initially thought it said quilt, too.

9:08 AM  
Blogger Bethany said...

I'm glad he's okay and that no one called CPS on you. I'm kidding about the CPS part!

9:54 AM  
Blogger kj said...

hello liz. i see you are being a doting insecure and totally fabulous mother.

is the pope catholic?
:)

12:47 AM  

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