Worst Mommy in the World

My daughters and their new friends- the owls

I have no doubt that someday they'll call me horrible names.  But right now, I do it all to myself.  And I can't even tell myself that it's really not that bad.  All I have to do is keep checking the condition of the laundry.

My children are in a right state.  Let me put it this way, in the last two days we've gone through a lot of neosporin.

I was so anxious to have kids who could move around on their own steam.  And really, it's a huge improvement in most ways.  I can walk down the street and my children walk along with me, their tiny hands in mine.  I can go out and come back, and they take themselves back up the stairs.  I can say, "Go to your chairs!" and they run to eat a meal.  It's lovely.

Except, of course, that they're just not that good at it.

SI and her new best buddy

Two days ago, the streak began.  SI and I were playing with the yoga ball.  She was chasing it up and down the hall, shrieking with laughter.  As she ran after it (me encouraging her, of coures), she fell down.

She fell down, knocking her head REALLY HARD into a heating vent.

So she had a giant, bleeding lump on her forehead.  As the evening progressed and she calmed down, I kept checking her eyes to make sure they were focusing together.  I knew it wasn't likely that she had a concussion, but she was so sleepy... I was terrified.

So the next day, when we went to the grocery store, I was very sure to take care that both girls got lots of attention and love.  That meant two carts, which was fine.  We had M with us, SI's scabbed bump was a little smaller, and with a hat on her little head I thought that I might not appear to be some sort of horrible child abuser.

Then DD started getting very silly.  She wanted me to tickle her under her chin.  And what kind of parent wouldn't tickle their adorable toddler under the chin when explicitly begged by such a sweet and insistent  little munchkin?

DD giving her owl kisses

So I tickled her.  And I tickled her again.  And in her inexpressible mirth she flung her body sideways as hard as she possibly could.  Instantly, her laughter turned to screams.  She had smashed her face- SMASHED her FACE- on the metal bar at the side of the cart.  While she screamed and the other grocery shoppers started looking for the horrible abusive mother who was maiming her children in the frozen food isle, I saw blood starting to trickle from the corner of her eye.

I panicked.  I picked her up, abandoned the cart (and my purse) and ran off to sit down with her, apologizing over and over and over again.  And DD, rock star that she is, stopped crying almost at once.  It was only five minutes before we were back in the cart, going through the checkout.  We were still a few groceries short, but I didn't care.  And DD was sporting a nasty shiner.  Lucky us, the blood was coming from a cut probably a millimeter away from from her eye.  It still makes me breathless with terror when I think about it.

After a much needed naptime, we went to the 'burbs for my cousin's birthday.  Upon our return, M went to extract DD from her car seat, and positively screamed to me across the car- "Come quick!  She's covered in blood!"

And that she was.  COVERED in blood.  Perfectly happy, but with blood crusted all over her face, from forehead to chin, all over her hands, her hair, her arms, in her sweater...   Turns out she'd gotten a nosebleed and, in toddler fashion, rubbed the blood all over herself.  The car seat (and one of my favorite blouses) looks like it's been through a horror movie.

SI and her "Owii" = BFFs

So today, we went off to a music class.  The other mothers laughed off my daughters' bumps and bruises, assured me that they didn't think I was beating up my kids when they were at home, and we all had a lovely time.

When we got home I did what I usually do- I encouraged the girls to race up the stairs.  How fast can they go- they're crawling up three flights of obstacles, right?

DD, in her excitement to be a step higher than her sister, KICKED SI IN THE FACE.  And then raced ahead.

SI burst into tears.  I grabbed her around the middle and leaped up the stairs behind DD, who was turning a corner out of sight, and in my haste I knocked SI's head into the wall.  (Not very hard, but still.)  It was enough to turn being hurt and upset into one of the worst things that had ever happened to her.

Of course, I still wasn't expecting that when I looked down to give her a kiss and tell her it was okay, that her face would be all bloody.  It seems DD actually busted open SI's lip.  Poor SI, who's mouth is already all sore from growing new teeth, has a nice big cut to make her even droolier and more miserable.

This owl is rightly terrified of my children

Just two days ago I felt like an amazing mom.  I had the happiest little girls, they were giving me tons of kisses and hugs.  They were eating well and sleeping well and cheerful and sweet... and I felt like I was just the awesomest mommy you ever saw.

But now I have a collection of blood stained diapers, blood stained clothes, and bloodied babies.  Gorgeous little girls that are sleeping peacefully while I contemplate a stiff martini to get through my horrific guilt.

I swear, I'm really not a terrible mother.  I'm really not.  I just feel like one.  I feel like the worst mother in the world.