I Dropped My Son. On His Head.

Parenting Fail

Latest Parenting Fail: I forgot to mention in my last post that I straight up dropped my child. In a gas station parking lot. On his head. People saw it happen. I hid with him in the front seat.

The Story

The story goes something like this:

We were traveling to the beach and about 45 minutes into the drive, Weston had a dirty diaper. Of course he did. Nothing can be too easy around here. Anyways, instead of putting shoes on both kids and towing them into the gas station bathroom by myself, (Chad wasn’t going to the beach for a couple of more days), I had the bright idea to change him in the front seat of the car. That way, I could leave James strapped into his carseat, and I wouldn’t have to put anyone’s shoes on. Great plan! Only, it wasn’t.

Fast forward. I get his diaper changed, mental note to self, he is way too big to change him in the front seat of the car anymore. If you don’t know our angel baby 16 month old, he is a little on the bigger side. I say that with all the love in the world.

After having a child that is not even in the first percentile for weight, I gladly welcome our 99th percentile baby. Our two year old has been stuck, prodded, tested, seen more than a handful of specialists, and put on several special “diet” plans because he can’t gain weight (another post for another time), so I’m over the moon about having a chunky monkey!

He looks like a baby and acts like a baby, but 2T clothes are almost too small for him. He weighs almost 30 pounds, and he has the juiciest thighs with a plump little bottom. I tell you all of this so you can visualize the event that led up to me dropping him.

The Event Itself

So, the diaper is changed, and we’re pulling up our 2T shorts. “Pulling up his shorts” is really more of a “shake him into his shorts.” Remember those juicy thighs I was telling you about? Yeah. So, I’m shaking. He’s laughing. He decides to lean forward while I’m shaking, which results in him falling on the concrete head first. The laughing quickly turned to crying. Oh. My. Gosh. I just dropped my baby, on his head, on the concrete.

Shrieks. Shrills. Hysterics. Of course there was a car right there with a man in the front seat that I KNOW had to have seen the whole thing play out, so I quickly scoop him up, rock him in the front seat, repetitively say I’m so sorry, and hide until that car leaves the gas station. Talk about feeling like the worst mother in the world. I was shocked that man didn’t call Child Protective Services on me. I’m not going to lie, I straight up would’ve been questioning some moms ability had I seen her do what I did.

Catholic Conscience

Remember that time I wrote about that Catholic conscience of mine? Well, it was fully active after this event. When I was pulling out of the gas station, I saw a cop car with the passenger door open. It crossed my mind that they might stop me to make sure I was a suitable parent and that my child was ok. Needless to say, I think that was all a little paranoia, and the cops really didn’t know anything about the incident.

Of course my mom called and I had to tell her what I did. Then, I had to call Chad and tell him I dropped our perfect, little baby because well, Catholic conscience. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I just feel like I need to tell you that I just dropped Weston, and he hit his head. He’s ok, but I would feel guilty if I didn’t tell you.

Chad: Laughs a little. Well, ok, you didn’t have to tell me that. Are you ok?

Me: Yes, I’m fine. I just feel like the worst mother in the world and am waiting on CPS to contact me. And yes, I had to tell you because when you see him in a couple of days you’ll see the big bruise and knot on his forehead and ask me what happened.

Chad: I think he’s going to be fine. You’re not the worst mother in the world. You’re a great mother. It happens. Now when he’s a teenager and doing something stupid I can tell him well son, your mother dropped you on your head as a child.

Me: That’s not funny.

Thank God for an understanding and forgiving husband.

For the next two hours, I constantly looked in the rearview mirror to check on him and make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep because that’s the one time I would have woken a sleeping baby!

Feeling Better About your Parenting?

Feel better about your parenting skills now? Good. That was part of the purpose. We all fail. Some (me) more than others, but fiercely love them, and all will be well.

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