Ouch…I Said OUCH Mama!

Posted by Kim on Saturday Mar 27, 2010 Under Uncategorized

Well, it’s official. I am the worst mama in the world. I’m pretty sure other children don’t get hurt, not at least when they’re with their own mother. Tru busted his lip twice, yes, I said TWICE this week. And busted it good! What are the odds? Well, very high when you’re playing with me. When my luck is up, it soars, but when it’s down, it’s down loooowww. And poor Tru had to suffer because of it.


Okay, in my defense I usually run around the house with my hands under his butt waiting to catch his fall. I follow him, room to room. I sit on the rug. Crawl on the floor. I go where he goes. Well, he’s getting to where he plays more by himself and is entertained by his toys and I’ve been letting him play. I keep my eye on him and stay close by, but I’m not under him. Yeah, that’s all fine until someone, that would be Tru, gets hurt.

The first lip busting happened when Tru crawled up to Byte to give her a “warm one”. (That’s what Poppy calls it when Tru leans his head into you like he’s giving you a hug.) First mistake was leaning into Byte’s face. When I turned and saw this I knew Byte was going to snap, but it was too late. It was like watching it in slow motion. Little Tru, being sweet and Byte, well, being Byte. She caught the center of his upper lip. I grabbed him and he cried and bleed on my shoulder. I felt awful and was really mad at Byte. She spent the rest of the night closed in the bathroom and I kept kicking myself for not watching better. I could have picked him up or made Byte move and Tru wouldv’e felt no pain. I bought a gate the next day so I can put Byte in another room and not have the two of them face to face!

A couple days go by and the guilt is starting to fade. Tru’s lip has healed nicely and Byte learned her lesson and avoids Tru. All seems to be returning to normal. That is until I decide to put away the laundry that’s been on the dryer for two days. Tru and I go into the bedroom. He’s playing by the bed. I’m singing to him and then I hear a bump. Then the cry…that god-awful cry that only a hurt baby can make. I run and see him face down. I had left a magazine on the floor and he slid on it. My heart sinks. I know in an instant it’s bad. I pick him up and hold him tight. He’s screaming in my ear and I don’t want to look because I know what I’m going to see. Blood. Yep. From the mouth…again. This time he bit into his lower lip as he hit the bed frame. Just about bit it in two. He cries and cries and cries. I feel worse and worse, wishing I could take it away. There’s nothing like knowing you’re the reason your baby is in pain. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect him. He doesn’t know about slippery magazines and hard bed frames. That’s where I come in, except I didn’t. I was hanging a stupid t-shirt, meanwhile Tru bites his lip in half. Guilt rushes over me. I want to wave a magic wand and take it away for him. I want to rewind and see the potential hazard with the magazine. I want to be a better mom.

A billion times I say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” But he cries. Sorry doesn’t fix it, but I’ll tell ya what helps…a little red wagon. He calms down as we ride. I keep looking at his fat lip as a reminder of how delicate and precious this little boy is that belongs to me. A reminder that I have an awesome responsibility and Tru’s well-being depends on me. A reminder that he’s helpless and tender and fragile. I keep looking at his angry mouth wound so maybe I can absorb some of the pain. I should hurt too…it only seems fair. How pitiful he looks. His face splotchy from crying, but he manages a few little laughs. I don’t want to relax. He has suffered and I need to learn my lesson, which is to always keep with Tru. Forget the laundry. His happiness is my happiness and his pain is my torture.

He slept that night. I still cried and beat myself up. The following day he played, but I beat myself up a little more. There will be many bumps and bruises I know, but that doesn’t mean I will welcome them.

This is what happens when I stop pulling the wagon…

Okay Tru…mama is paying attention!

2 Responses to “Ouch…I Said OUCH Mama!”

  1. Tricia Says:

    Kim…you ARE NOT a bad mom! The process of learning the ups and downs of being a mom is hard…but all children get hurt from time to time. WhenGrayson was a year old I had him in the tub and the phone rang. The phone was only a few feet away but in the secs it took me to pick the phone up Grayson tried to stand in the tub and slipped and fell..knocking his two front teeth back halfway in the roof of his mouth. Blood went everywhere, I was frantic…but the dentist pulled the baby teeth and Gray healed. It was a constant reminder to me for the next three years…he had no front teeth! Now look at him..18 years old and beautiful teeth! Another time was when Grayson’s elbow was hurting from pitching curve balls in baseball…he was supposed to be taking a break from pitching but it was the last inning of the championship game and if Gray pitched it was a sure win. Despite what we knew was the right decision we let him pitch…we won the championship but Grayson lost the ability to pitch for two years. He had dislocated his elbow and broken the bone on the last pitch of the game. Surgery came next…three large screws,months of rehabilitation, and to this day he still can’t straighten his arm. Yes…I felt like I was a horrible mom and felt guilty for a very long time but…that is part of being a parent and raising children. If anything…it makes you realize the love that children fill our hearts with….you are a good mom…..and Tru knows it!

  2. Shawn Bergen Says:

    I am with Tricia. You are a good mom. I have a Cami story. When she was 15 months old, I put her on our bed to change her diaper. When the diaper came off she got up and ran to the other side of the bed right into the corner of Tim’s dresser. Ended up with 5 or 6 stitches under her left eye. I felt horrible and cried. She is now 11 and has a very tiny scar under her eye. It happens to all good moms…

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