I've been told it happens to everyone. I've been in the next room when it happened to one of my dear friends. And apparently when I was a baby someone accidently hit my head on a ceiling fan, so I don't feel too bad.
But this week, I get 'The Worst Mom' Award.
Yep, my eight month old doesn't crawl yet, which I'm not worried one bit about. But let's just say he's not very mobile. At. All.
Until, of course, last Tuesday when he smacked the floor with his face after a 3+ foot fall off the bed.
I know you're thinking, 'well at least he has that nifty helmet,' but let's just say it was the one hour a day that he didn't have his helmet on.
See...
I was washing his helmet.
I was being a good mom who follows the instructions of the helmet people.
He was on the bed, the correct direction so that he 'couldn't' roll off. He was happy. I was about 4 feet from him and we were making faces at one another and giggling as his shoved his toes into his mouth.
And then I bent over to get the spray bottle of alcohol that I use to clean his helmet and as I was standing back up I heard a very heavy, very loud thud.
I turned and there he was, screaming, face first, down on the floor.
I must have dropped everything, because the spray bottle was later found abandoned on the floor. I rushed over to him, picked him up and prayed so very hard that he would be okay. Not so much that he'd be unharmed or that he'd be perfectly fine, but a strong plea to the Lord that he'd just survive and that I wouldn't somehow lose him.
After telling him I loved him about 15 thousand times, I looked over his body for the injuries. I checked his head, his nose, his face. Yes, his face caught his fall. I called frantically for my husband over the camp radio and then I ran out the door to the camp nurse.
And as I stepped out the door, that little Lincoln just looked up at me and smiled. Sad. Hurting a bit I'm sure, but smiling because Mommy was there.
After getting him looked over, figuring out that he probably didn't have a concussion, we set out for a restful day. He was a bit cranky at the most odd times: in his favorite jumper, when I had him stand in my lap to watch the campers, etc.
It wasn't until much later in the day that Kyle realized he wasn't putting weight on his left leg. Like a little wounded puppy his little leg was tucked up.
So yes.
He fell off the bed.
Yes, we didn't notice his leg until hours later.
Yes, I took him in and they had to take 4 different x-rays on his tiny but chunky leg.
But praise Jesus it wasn't broken. It'll heal.
Thank goodness, because I'm not sure I'd have the breath to explain the helmet AND a tiny leg cast on an 8 month old over and over again.
He's fine, just sore.
And I'll be watching my wiggly boy a bit more closely now.
So yes, I may be the worst mom this week.
But I bet I was the best mom last week, so I'm sure it evens out.
