Well, substitute “drop the baby” for “let him fall off the bed,” and then, yes. Yes, it’s true. Life is cruel.
This morning, in the split second it took for me to remove my eyes from my cute kid to pick up the pillows from the floor(pillows he threw on the floor, may I add), down he went. BAM.
What followed were the most awful seconds I have endured in recent memory. Oh the guilt! Oh, the horrible, wretched guilt!
Santiago stopped crying almost as soon as I scooped him up, and once I had thoroughly inspected him for scrapes and fractures (all clear!) he flashed me the goofiest, most relieved little teary-eyed smile. I think he mostly got scared from my blood curdling scream than the acutal fall. Immediately I decided I could never forgive myself.
I think the fall may have increased his appetite because he devoured his breakfast.
So. Let’s do this: You tell me your Worst Mom Moment, and then I’ll nod and think, “Oh, I'm not such a bad mother . . .” Oh, c'mon pleeease, for the sake of my sanity.