The last 10 days are going to have to be stricken from my Mother of the Year application. In fact, I am leery about putting it all out here for the world to see, lest any of you fail to see the humor and call CPS. I am not even kidding. I am the mother of one Sweet William, after all. Son of Mr. Emergency Room hisownself. My poor MIL will tell you through gritted teeth about how CPS made a visit to their house when my betrothed was young. Too many trips to the ER and they get a little suspicious.
My tale of woe begins with a first. Will’s first bloody nose. He took a header off the couch. I am sure that the hurt was real, but when he saw the blood he ramped up the screaming and wailing. So you would think that it would have taken him longer than 2 minutes to take another header off the exact same spot and give himself a black eye. Incidentally, not his first black eye. Not even close.
48 hours later and we almost had to call the police. Ok. Well. Not really. But that was on my list of answers to the question that was running frantically through my head - “Oh crap, now what do I do?” We had just pulled into the garage, and I was distracted by the fact that minutes before the garage door malfunctioned. I unbuckled Will from his seat and he beelined it for the front of my car where, lately, he likes to pretend to drive. I am not sure if that is just a boy thing, or if my parents taught him how to do that. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the former. But since Sweet Pea learned to “drive” in Grandma’s Cadillac, you just never know. So anyway, there he was all safe and contained in the car while I was checking out the garage door situation. At the exact same moment that I heard him lock the car door I remembered that my keys were in there with him. Admittedly, “Oh crap” may not have been exactly what I was thinking. Mr. G had the spare, at least 20 minutes away. Will played happily while we waited. But about 2 minutes before the key arrived he made a tactical error – stepping on the lock button. I felt like I was freeing my baby from imminent danger. He felt like I was tearing him away from the Best Toy Ever.
I was lulled into complacency by the (major) incident free days that followed. Just normal Toddler bumps and scrapes. But Saturday night he almost drowned.
Ok. Again. Not really. But he did climb into the bathtub fully clothed. Which made a gigantic mess and freaked me the hell out.
And then tonight, just when I thought we had left Bad Mommy week behind, Boy Wonder managed to free himself from the intricate strap system in our new baby backpack and climb out of it while I was walking down the street with him on my back. Suddenly there he was, coming over the top of my head. I actually had to have a stranger help me because he couldn’t get all the way out, but he couldn’t get back in either. (Not that he had ANY plans to do so.) Once free his entire life mission was to run toward the road. I am sure that there are some neighbors who are going to be keeping a closer eye on me after seeing me restraining him by his hood. (The kid is a master at breaking free of me. Hence the backpack. Which will now require duct tape.) And we were a long way from home.
In other news, Sweet Pea fell off her bike and skinned her knee. The one inch long scrape involved actual “bleed” and required two bandaids. It starts to hurt really badly whenever there is someone new in the room. She is not quite sure she is going to be able to make it to any of her activities for the next several weeks, and requests that cards and gifts be sent directly to her room so she doesn’t have to climb the stairs.
I need a hot bath and a glass of wine...