I'm trying to get myself another "Mother of the Year" nomination today.
Last night I was up and down and up and down with Monkey. I was getting crankier and crankier each time and he was getting harder to get back down each time until about 3am when I thought to check his nappy (I have little sense of smell and he doesn't usually poop at night) and found that he had long since pooped and it was now burning his little boy bits. I cleaned him up and then in my fuzzy 3am haze and overwhelming guilt I grabbed a tube of something to heal it... and it was the stuff that burns (I should just throw it out)... I cleaned that off and put some good stuff on it and got him back to bed and he slept for hours.
a tired little man
(this wasn't this morning, it just seemed to be a fitting photo)
Then this morning I lost Monkey. I was trying to do a couple of things without a baby on my hip so I put him down in the play room with some toys and legged it out of there. After a couple of minutes I heard some sooking but figured he was just upset that his butt was on the ground instead of my hip, so I ignored it. It kept going for a bit and then he gave one big squawk and started a rather frantic cry. I figured I should go and investigate but as I walked past the kitchen I couldn't see him in the playroom so I went around to the lounge, he hadn't crawled in there so I figured I'd missed him when I looked into the playroom. I went back in there and he was not there at all... but his crying was. He had scooted himself under a chair in behind his swing which was being stored under there and was stuck... and scared. poor boy.
Lets see what other ways I can cause him to need therapy before this day is out.
Sounds like mummy needs therapy for her guilt. Wait till menopause hits you and you will remember every little thing like these incidents at 2am every morning and again suffer guilt and sleep deprivation. The fact that they grow up safely and turn out okay just makes you feel more guilt for treating such great kids so badly. Take it from one who knows.
ReplyDeleteOh the therapy our little'uns need by the time they're raised. Sounds like Mummy needs some chocolate and coffee therapy.
ReplyDeleteLove Grannysaurus comment. If she's right, and I'm sure she is, menopause is looking worser and worser.
Oh yes, mine will need heaps of it too.
ReplyDeleteOh the poor little tyke - but don't worry he won't remember a thing!
ReplyDeleteHope you're having a very Happy Mothers Day with your beautiful boys!
Renata :)
Whoops. I think those unexpected late night poops happen to all of us at least once. Luckily I think he's young enough that your little slips won't cause too much damage to his tender psyche. You, on the other hand, might need to talk yourself down from the mommy guilt. I know the feeling. ;)
ReplyDeleteOh don't worry...think about how guilty I felt when my kid went flying down the stairs at about eight months of age...or all the variety of things I wasn't paying attention to and...crud. I think our boys might be in therapy together.
ReplyDeleteIs it bad that in that photo Monkey looks like he's thinking "What.the.heck.mum?"
Poor little Monkey :(
ReplyDeleteThat is such a sad looking photo.
LOl about him scooting under the furniture. My twins used to both get stuck under the couch all the time.
Love it. "Another dollar in the therapy fund."
ReplyDeleteBrilliant. I am peppering my daily conversations with that...not that my life needs to go that way. umm...