I am my harshest critic, on motherhood and all other subjects upon which a human can be judged. But even I was beginning to give myself credit for being a pretty darn good mom lately.
We found a new pediatrician and Deuce loves her. I applied sunblock every time he went in the pool. He has not fallen off the stairs despite his deep love of climbing up and then turning around to make sure someone is watching him. All success stories in my book.
So last night DeuceDad and I decided to go to Home Depot and start actually looking at the prices for materials for some of the projects we want to do to the new house. I met them after work in the parking lot, grabbed Deuce out of the car, gave him kisses, started walking to the store...
... and stepped on a rock, twisted my ankle and DROPPED HIM.
DeuceDad grabbed him and started comforting him and inspecting for injury. I sat on the ground saying "is he okay is he okay" (very helpful). Strangers ran over, and one woman tried to take Deuce away from his dad because I had not identified him as the father (brilliant on my part). Drama.
Miraculously, Deuce has a scrape on his one side. And that's it. I don't know how it's possible. My dad thinks I managed to sort of set him down hard on the ground as opposed to dropping him. I have a sprained ankle (which I've done 50 times before) and scrapes on both knees and hands.
And a heavy heart.
I dropped my baby.
But he is okay, and I'll be more careful where I step from now on and no harm was done. But I feel guilty all the same. I mean, shouldn't have broken bones and internal bleeding at the expense of cushioning his fall and having him laugh it off? This in unrealistic because my leg twisted out from under me and I fell to the ground. Oh, and he didn't really get hurt. I'm just saying that the guilt is back en force.
I'll have to make it up to him somehow. Like with candy and toys.
Wait, now that's being a bad mom.