After yesterday, I thought I needed to write something funny to lighten the mood....
I'm a new mom. I try to keep up with things for Charlie...the best food, clothes that fit, diapers that don't leak, etc. But, sometimes things fall through the cracks.
Some of you know our Basset hound, Dixie. She's not the typical lay around and snooze all day kind of Basset. She gets excited, particularly and overly excited when we return home. Several Sunday afternoons ago, Jared and I came in from the grocery store. Dixie seemed to have settled down, so I sat Charlie on the floor so that I could help put away the groceries. But, Dixie got riled up again, ran OVER Charlie and cut his foot with one of her freshly clipped sharp toenails. He was otherwise unharmed and unbothered by the whole occurrence, but I was mortified that the dog had gashed my little boy's otherwise pristine flesh. She got a stern "talking to" about settling down, and then I went to attend to Charlie's gaping bleeding wound. (Ok...it was just one scratch and one inch long cut that was bleeding a little, but at the time, I thought he might have needed a plastic surgeon to ensure he didn't scar. I mean...it did draw blood!)
So, operation first-aid commenced. I was so glad I took the first aid training for Pony Club and through work - I was prepared to deal with my first emergency situation. I held Charlie over the sink and poured peroxide on the wound, washed my hands and put neosporin on it, then put a couple of baby-sized Band-Aids on him and put him in his footy PJs to get ready for bed. The wound was safe, clean, medicated, and protected by Band-Aids and footie pajamas. (This is the point in the story, as I was telling it to my friend Amie at work the following morning - Amie is super-mom by the way - when Amie gasped and exclaimed, "YOU put a Band-Aid on a baby? They can choke on Band-Aids!") I panicked...on the inside. I pretended like I was busy so that Amie would leave... and I could call the daycare to stop the impending disaster. I had already taken Charlie to daycare that morning with fresh Band-Aids on his foot covered by socks (that he usually pulls off about two minutes after I walk out the door). And, when I got home, Charlie was playing on the floor, with his wound exposed to the air. (Better than having those death strips on his foot, I thought.) So, I kept applying neosporin and socks....NO more Band-Aids...he could choke on Band-Aids. I was so relieved that the daycare had removed the potential choking hazard...thank goodness we caught it in time.
The next morning (Tuesday), when I dropped Charlie off at school and thanked his teacher for removing the Band-Aids, with a funny look, she said, "what Band-Aids?" I was convinced that someone else must have handled it and dismissed the whole thing. Either way...Charlie survived, didn't choke, and the Band-Aids were gone...never to be heard from again (until he's old enough not to put sticky plastic strips in his mouth)...or so I thought.
Let me preface this, without too many icky details, by saying that Charlie has some "systems issues," so we're always glad to see a "business" diaper. On Wednesday night, despite my eventual horror, I was also glad to know that Charlie was in working order and that it takes exactly two days for something to run through him. There it was...the death strip...a reminder of my incompetence as a parent...right there in Charlie's diaper. The Band-Aid had resurfaced. As Charlie laid there giggling and playing with a bottle of lotion, I felt the tears in my eyes over what could have happened (he could have choked, could have stopped breathing, could have gotten the Band-Aid stuck somewhere along the way!)
I decided to share the news with Jared to make sure that he NEVER used Band-Aids on Charlie. I was also hoping for a little comfort that "no one knows that" or "we're both learning." NOPE. Jared's response? "Well, I (emphasis on the iiiiii) knew not to put a Band-Aid on a baby." No he didn't...or else he would have said something when I bragged about putting the first neatly placed Band-Aid on Charlie three days before. But, now I know he's in on the conspiracy to make me question my parenting skills.
Moral of the story to my expectant mom friends...there are SO many things that they don't tell you when you leave the hospital with your little bundle of joy...this is one of those things. I remember the "I am stick on Band-Aids, cause Band-Aid's stuck on me" advertisement...which made me think "sometimes you feel like a nut....sometimes you dont." Most days, as a new mom....I feel like a nut. Maybe I'll get through today without doing something stupid. Charlie has withdrawn my nomination for Mother of the Year...again.
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