Yesterday, It finally happened, in all its slow motion glory. Tate fell off the bed and I watched him go down.
We had had a long morning. He went down late and woke up early and we were both tired and grumpy. After he refused to let me put him down, and two failed nap attempts I had get out of the house. I started rushing around trying to ready us for a trip to the store. In reality, I was just secretly hoping he would fall asleep in the car as soon as we left.
I plopped him on my bed while I changed. Tate can roll over so you might ask why I put him there in the first place. My answer would be because although he can move himself, he rarely does. He sleeps like a log and lays without moving on the floor until he squawks at me to pick him up. He doesn’t move much. Until today.
I turned away for just a second, and BAM he was headed for the floor. I could see the accident in a slow motion peripheral vision nightmare. I immediately lunged for him and caught him a split second after he made impact.
Then he let out that cry, you know the one that is quite possibly the saddest noise on Earth? Yeah, that one. I held him and rocked him and we cried together. I felt so stupid and frustrated. How could I be so irresponsible with my own kid? I should know better, shouldn’t I?
This happens to everyone at some point, right? I am hoping you can make me feel better, because I am still feeling incredibly guilty about the whole thing.
Real Mom Confessions: Struggles I hide from my kids!