Saturday, November 11, 2006

Of Falls and Books

So, this horrible thing happened yesterday.

We were getting ready to walk out the door when it became obvious that Johnny needed both a new diaper and due to an unfortunate Sippy Cup Incident, a new set of clothes. T was outside in the car, not aware of the delay. I took Johnny to his room to quickly change his whole self. I set him on the changing table, as I always do. The changing table at our house isn't really a table. It is a pad that sits on top of one of his dressers, about 3 feet off of the HARD WOOD FLOOR. (Foreshadow much?) His diapers are right under the pad, in a cabinet style section of the dresser, and his shirts are in the bottom two drawers. His pants are in the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Normally I select his clothes before setting him on the pad and have everything at my disposal. Normally I do NOT turn my back for one second on the writhing, impatient toddler who hates being on the changing table for even one millisecond.

Right. Not yesterday, though. He was happily occupied with a toothbrush and a block, so I left his side for a second to grab a pair of pants. Now, like I said, the pants are in the wardrobe on the other side of the room. The room is small. It is about three steps from the table to the wardrobe. I don't say this to make what I did sound better, that is impossible. I say it for context.

While I was grabbing a pair of pants, I heard a rustle-whoosh sort of noise before I whipped around. He was falling. Falling off of the table and about to land on the floor or the spiky leg of the fucking rocking chair that is too near the table and that I have never used.

I don't know how I caught him. I really don't. All I know is that one second he was falling, and the next second I was there, with my arm under his head, neck and butt. He knew that he had fallen and he was pissed. He did that kind of crying without inhaling thing for awhile and I just walked around with him, telling him that it was okay. I lied, in other words. Because yes, I caught him and he didn't hurt himself on the floor or the chair, but he still has a stupid fucking mother that would turn her back on him while he's three feet off the floor.

It may take me a while to get over this one. Expect random, melodramatic posts that mirror the great breastfeeding tragedy of 2005 and the Kids Klub Clusterfuck of '06.

Now is when I had planned on talking to you about books. I am reading some really great books lately. Maybe I'll talk to you tomorrow when I can hear myself think over the din of GUILT and FAILURE.

Shit.

4 Comments:

Blogger Nancy said...

Oh, Kel, welcome to motherhood. Don't be so hard on yourself, you're a great mom - everyone's allowed a brainfreeze once in awhile and hey, you CAUGHT him! Tragedy averted, lesson (re)learned. We've all done the "just for one second" thing. You know, Grandma Kay used to put me outside to nap in a bassinette when I was tiny (although, now that I think about it, hopefully not too tiny, seeing as my birthday is January 15th) and one time the bottom fell out of the bassinette. Apparently I just continued to sleep on the sidewalk.

8:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

well, I had this awesomely reassuring and witty comment, but blogger ate it :(

I will just leave you with the last line...

sending self forgiveness vibes your way...

8:53 AM  
Blogger Nancy said...

Oh, yeah, and T? The great sharp-hinge-to-the-forhead debacle of 2006, the scar of which he still wears. Just to taunt me.

2:15 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Remember when you slammed the door on my ear? I still have the scar from that! Just kidding. I have been so proud to see you and John together. You and T are a GREAT Mom and Dad combo. He's a happy, fun little boy and that's because he has a Mom and Dad who are happy and fun. Keep up the great work!

10:47 PM  

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