WHAM (and not the good, George Michael kind of WHAM)

You know that old joke, when somebody acts like a doofus and you say, “He was probably dropped on his head when he was a baby?”

Yeah.

I thought we’d just stay home today, but by the time 3 o’clock ticked around I had to get out of the house, so I wrestled the squiggly-wiggly ones into the (NEW!) car and drove to this cool coffee bar that we hadn’t been to since Moo was a crawler.  We used to attend a kiddo class next door, and I loved the coffee bar because it’s big and airy and has a little raised stage that kids like to run around on.

Everything was going so well – warm, melty cookie for Moo and I to share, chai for me, apple juice for Moo, snuggling for Juice.  Then we went up onto the stage so Juice could crawl around a bit.  Moo immediately set about creating an elaborate storyline based upon Princess and the Pea, in which ALL the princesses in the town have peas under their beds but THE PEAS ARE ALL MISSING!  AND THEY ROLLED OUT IN THE STREET!  AND THE PEAS MATCH THEIR DRESSES!  AND THEN ALL THE PRINCESSES DANCE! 

In the meantime, I eyed the stained rug warily.  Instead of letting him rub his baby hands into coffee stains and tiny bits of limp lettuce, I plopped Juice up on the couch against the wall.  He immediately flipped onto his hands and knees and began scriggling and wriggling all around, but I sat on the floor in front of him, watching him carefully and making my hands and arms into a little safety fence.

Then Moo said something to me, and I turned my head for ONE SECOND.  (Sigh, such a cliche.) 

WHAM!!

I turned around, and saw my Juice.  He’d slipped right through my hand-fence, straight down on his head.  I swooped to scoop him, but before I could catch him, his neck twisted in such a way that made my whole body shake.  Then he landed, and there was a moment of silence as I managed to scoop him up, and then he WAILED.

For about 20 seconds, I was terrified he might die.  I pictured the paramedics rushing in the door.  Just the way his little neck twisted…

Then I realized that crying was good.  And I told myself he hadn’t lost consciousness.  And then he wriggled out of my arms and sat up and turned his head this way and that, so I knew his neck and spine were okay.

I picked him up again and pressed him to my chest and looked around at the two college girls sitting nearby, who gave me a look that said, “Wow, you kinda suck, sorry about your baby but could you get him to shut up?”

So I became very aware of his wailing in the quiet room.  And wondered why not one person looked over in sympathy, or asked if he was okay?  Was it because they all saw what happened and knew I was the worst mom in the world?  Or because they’re all heartless evil laptop drones?  And by the way, snooty laptop drones, A COFFEE BAR IS NOT THE SAME THING AS AN OFFICE.  So you can stop giving me looks when I come in with my reasonably quiet children (except in the case of head injuries).  This is a community gathering place, and they sell chocolate milk.  SO THERE.

Aaaaaand it was around this time that I started to cry and couldn’t stop.  My baby had a big red welt on his head and it was my fault.  I had hurt my baby.  I hurt my helpless baby, and what if something worse had happened?  And what if a gunman walked into the coffee bar?  How would we escape?  What would I do? 

Moo started a song-and-dance number to make Juice feel better, but that just made me cry more.  My children are so wonderful and beautiful, and why can’t I be one of those moms about which they will someday say, “She was a saint!  She never got angry, she never lost her patience, and she baked a fresh fruit pie every day!  Dear old Mama….”

Finally I stopped crying.  All the other customers had quietly moved to the other side of the room, away from the crazy mom who dropped her baby on his head.  So I watched the end of Moo’s Princess show, and let Juice go ahead and commune with the coffee stains.  We made it home a bit before Herbie, and when he walked in the door I cried in his arms all over again.

Before the night ended, Juice attempted to launch himself out of my arms five times, climb over the back of a chair, pull out Doc’s tail, and shimmy up a wall.  He has been crawling for FOUR DAYS.

Oh baby, I am holding onto you so tight.