Bad Mommy

Things started out pretty good today. I got the big kids out the door and off to school in a relatively timely matter. Gus and I enjoyed some Mommy/baby time for awhile before he was off taking his morning nap. My friend Cathy came over and we had a nice visit. It had been awhile since we had seen each other. It was nice to catch up while Gus showed off his new walkin' skills. Sounds good, right? Yeah! After Cathy took off, I bundled up my babe and we headed for the grocer. I don't love grocery shopping, but when Gus is my shopping buddy, things are generally wonderful. We shared a few macaroons, kissed each other every once and awhile and had a complete conversation in baby . Gus flirted with each and every person who crossed our path. People commented on his sweetness, and we even made a friend in the produce section right by the mangos. The cart got pretty heavy, so it was clear that I had reached the end of our shopping trip. I had 20 minutes to pick up MS& HIP at school. Perfect, since the school is 3 miles from the grocery store. Wow. I actually felt accomplished. Now, there is a cashier who loves babies at this particular grocery store. Every grocery store has one. She's the one who tickles, makes faces, and is even bold enough to cross that personal space line and kiss the baby on the cheek. Her admiration for babies is genuine and sweet. Today as I made my way to register 6, she popped out of register 3 and said, " Oh you have more than 15 items." I nodded and said " maybe next time." and smiled. She said, " oh forget it.. come on we'll go fast!I need my baby fix!" The next thing I know she's tossing my groceries on the belt and we're off. There was really no turning back. She recruited a manager-type to help her bag. Gus patiently waited in the cart, but I could tell things were going to get hectic fast. He kept standing up and trying to hold onto me. I held onto him as I placed the groceries on the belt. As I turned back from signing the credit card thingy, I saw and heard and saw Gus land right on his little head. " OH SHIT" I said , as I swooped him up. He whined a little and looked at me longingly. The manager-ish guy said, " Oh God, is he okay?" I poo pooed the situation and said, "Oh, he's okay, no worries." Then I looked at Gus' face and he was grey. His eyes were rolling around and his pupils were really small. I said " Oh, wow, I don't like his coloring right now." The next thing knew, my cart was being pushed by a nice bag boy who was clueless to the sitch. I frantically called our pediatrician who said he needed to see him ASAP. MS & HIP were at school. I had already missed carpool. I called Cathy. No answer. I called her 20 more times. No answer. I called a few neighbors. No answers from any of them. I called Parker ... at this point I was crying because Gus was limp.Finally I bit the big one and called their school. They said That MS& HIP could stay until 5:30. Okay, good, that's taken care of. I heard everyone saying " these things happen, it wasn't your fault." The thing is: it was my fault. He wasn't buckled in. ( the cart's buckle was broken and I was too lazy to get a new cart) I let him fall. I sobbed my way to the Dr's office imagining having to take him to the ER for an MRI. I imagined my sweet baby being different from this day on. Luckily, I was being dramatic. Gus' color change after the fall was due to his little body being in shock. He was fine in about an hour. Right before I rolled into lane 3 with the baby loving cashier,for a split moment in time, I felt as if I had control over everything. That'll teach me to get cocky.

Now I know why some animals eat their young.

Here's why some animals have eaten their young: They must have been snowed/iced in with their kids for 4 days. Ya know, I pride myself on how much I love parenting. I live for it. What I don't live for is , " HE LOOKED AT ME!!!!" "SHE WON'T GIVE MY LIGHT SABER BACK!!" " NOBODY LIKES ME!!" " YOU'RE STUPID!!" Multiply this by 2 and again by 1,000, then multiply this by 4 days. All of this love has given me a bad headache. Now add in the babe who thinks I am his human pacifier, and has started waking up 3 times a night to nurse. As much as I love nursing...when I idealized nursing before Gus was born, I didn't think that every time I picked him up he would whip out a boob. I am beat down people. The thought of 3 more days with my kids is about to give me a stroke. My house is a mess. My car is iced over in the driveway. I can't run away, I'd slip and break my leg. Then I'd be laid up and not able to run the other way to hide in the laundry room. Calgon, take me away. I think I need a break.