A Mommy Story

Sometimes, it seems that from the moment a child is born, that child is seeking out doom. A friend of ours has a theory that life is so wonderful and cozy and warm in the womb, that when children are born into the bright, cold, loud and big world, they immediately want to do anything they can to end their life. They actively seek out doom.

Aaron and I laughed at this theory, until two weeks after Cordelia was born, when she had her first attempt at seeking doom. Aaron had taken her upstairs and put her on the bed so he could change his clothing. He only took his hand off of her for a couple of seconds – just long enough to take off his sweater. But during that short amount of time, Cordy mustered up all her strength, noticed where the edge of the bed was, and somehow rolled off the bed – *thump* – landing head first, of course. She had shown no signs of rolling before this, and she wouldn’t roll over again until she was 4 months old. But during this one moment, she took her chance. We then understood the theory. We also got our first real taste of parenting guilt.

Since that time, she’s remained an adventurer who constantly looks for the most dangerous thing in the room and heads straight for it. We’ve had to banish any pens and pencils to high places due to her joy in carrying them around, just waiting for the right moment to poke an eye out.

I’ve performed the mommy dive several times, throwing myself in harm’s way, to keep her from bashing her head into something sharp. She’s pulled a stack of folding chairs down onto her. And she’s fallen off the bed so many times now, we’re practically used to it.

I have removed nearly everything sharp and pointy from the living room. The computer and the TV stand are gated off, and we’re looking for a bottom-heavy end table to replace our tray tables which tip far too easily. The only piece of furniture in the living room that is remotely dangerous is the bench just inside the door, which has sharp corners on the wood frame. Which means, of course, that it was the next attempt at doom.

It was Monday evening. We had just finished watching King Kong, and picked Cordy up from grandpa’s house, where she was watching the Fiesta Bowl with him. When we got home, we started to take her coat off. After her coat was off, she stood there between us for a moment as we took our coats off and hung them up.

And then it happened – she fell forward. She didn’t seem to trip; just tumbled forward. Aaron was right in front of her, but in another amazing move, she missed Aaron’s leg entirely, twisting her body around to put it on a direct course for the edge of the bench.

She hit the bench, but not like any normal person would hit the bench. She bounced from the first impact, and hit it again, this time on the other side of her head before falling to the ground. She was quiet for the first few seconds, as Aaron and I experienced that feeling of dread and panic that only a parent can feel. Then the screaming started.

I quickly turned on the light while Aaron picked her up, and we examined her head. Aaron noticed the large red bump and scrape on her forehead, while I noticed the indentation in her head just into the hairline, on the other side of her head. It was at that point that we realized she had somehow managed to injure herself in two totally different parts of her head in just one fall.

Lucky for us, she didn’t give herself a concussion, and the wounds were minor. The scratch is still visible on her head, although amazingly the bruising around it is mostly gone.

The spot in her hairline doesn’t look bad at all, but that’s because the skin that was peeled partially off is still covering the red, irritated area. Little harm done, although I’m sure she had a massive headache that night.

She’s still seeking doom, I tell you.