Dear Spike:
I only turned my head for a moment.
I was leaning in to speak to a friend at work when I felt my balance shift and heard a sickening thump on the ground.
One moment you were snuggled in your baby carrier, which I’d set on my hip as I chatted with my friend. The next moment you were face down on the floor — doing that silent, shaky, red-faced, mouth-opened, oh-my-God-what-have-you-done-to-me thing that you do right before you scream.
And scream you did. Oh, scream you did.
Loud.
Phones dropped. Conversations ended. Every set of eyes in the building were fixed on us as I cradled you in my arms and rocked you back and forth, desperately trying to soothe you.
I did a quick inspection:
Two eyes, still relatively well aligned. One nose, still set straight. One tooth, still firmly implanted in your lower gums.
You had a little pink mark on you cheek, but otherwise, seemed no worse for the wear.
Unfortunately I can’t say the same for my ego.
Some of my colleagues at work have taken to calling me “Britney.” That’s a not-so-kind reference, I‘ve learned, to America’s favorite White trash mommy and Mickey Mouse Club alumna, Britney Spears, who was caught on film a few years ago nearly dropping her son (but somehow managing to hold onto the drink she was carrying in the process.) Others just greet me with the word “oops!” which, to my utter and eternal shame, is apparently the first thing I said when I realized you’d done a swan dive out the side of your chair.
I’ve always fancied myself a pretty decent dad. So I guess this is what you’d call a big dose of comeuppance. And as in most things in life, there’s a lesson here, I think.
It’s good to have a healthy ego. But it’s also good to know you’re never more than one dumb move away from making a complete ass of yourself.
I'm lucky you can't talk yet. Because as guilty as I've been feeling, I'd probably buy you a pony if you asked.
Love,
dad
6 comments:
Spike's first bump - and yo put it in writing. You'll be buying that pony anyway once she is old enough to read. And that bump, it is only the first of a great many. I am glad she's fine. Brush off the guilt, there is more waiting for you down the road, if not for what may be worthy of real guilt, then for what she will try to push on you. That pony? Start saving. She has you right where she wants you. And that is a good thing.
I am so sorry. I am glad she is okay. Do not beat yourself to much about it because it happens to all great moms and dads. And your great dad. My son rolled off the couch when he was younger then Spike. I promise it was a accident and I still feel guilty to this day. I really do not know how it happen consider I was sitting right there beside him. Hope this makes you feel better!
Almost the same thing happened to me with Clare and she turned out okay...so far...I think. It probably happens at least once to almost every kid.
Hi Sweetie:
When your cousin Nathan was a baby, I heard a middle of the night cry for a meal and a diaper change. As you know by now, task planning at 2am rarely makes us proud. Mine was foggy at best. We used cloth diapers back then with big, big pins. See where I am going with this? They teach you in the Preparation for Diapering class that you shield your child's delicate skin with your own hand so that if you stab you will only stab yourself. As I said, it was a foggy task planning moment but poor baby Nathan stiffened and opened his mouth as if to cry as if he could. Of course I took the pin out, of course I cleansed the site and rediapered and cuddled him and cried and then finally fed him. Oh, the guilt. I felt like the worst mother ever and though it is 35 years later, it stays fresh in my memory, not all of the time and not as painfully for I am kinder to myself about it now. I think I paid my dues many times over and am as you are, baptized into the very large community of less than perfect parents. We do believe that we will "do better" than our parents, quite sure that we would never, never hurt our sweet children and when we do, it is so horrific and so powerful. I am sorry for your pain and for Mia's moment of pain and for these very harsh reminders that parenting is not so simple after all. When you are 10 you think that parents are jerks. When you are 20 you think that you will be the first generation of truly outstanding and enlightened parents. When your own children are 10 you become the jerk and when your children are 20 you hug them as they tell you how enlightened they are about parenting. Perhaps by the time we are all 80 we will think more kindly of ourselves and our children and our parents and know that we are all in this community together. Blessings Sweetie
Love, Aunt Karen
So I definitely should have entered the pool on who would drop Spike first. Damn. ;)
Hugs,
K
Hayden's cup of tea has been stairs - down a number of times. Emma's was out of her seat. She did her share.
What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?!
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