Another parenting fail, and how Jo grabbed a light bulb

Last night, after bed time, Jo wandered into Oliver's room and emerged crying and screaming. It was hard to get any information out of either of them. Jo was inconsolable for over an hour and took a long time to fall asleep. She kept rubbing her hand on us and on her fox. One finger had what looked like a pinch mark, so we thought maybe Oliver had bit her, even though he said he didn't. After repeated questioning, he finally said he'd "kicked her because she was screaming." When I asked him where he'd kicked her, he said he didn't know, but then he said her head. I asked him if he kicked her hand, and he said yes. He lost his new bike (an early birthday gift from Grandma Colleen) for a while. I wasn't sure if her head was hurt or not. I wasn't sure if her hand rubbing was a sign of a head injury or hand injury. We gave Jo some baby Motrin and a band-aid (she loves band-aids) to try to help her feel better. We called my mother-in-law, a PA, to ask about head injuries. None of Jo's symptoms seemed to fit (she was speaking and moving all of her limbs). So, I just held her for a long time until she calmed down and finally fell asleep. She seemed so upset about whatever happened that I decided to sleep in her room last night. To put that in perspective, I've never slept in her room before! She was really, really upset.

Today, she's back to her normal, happy self. We examined her hand after she got up for the day. There were three blisters on her ring finger. Andrew wondered if she somehow burned herself, and it clicked: Oliver's room has a wall sconce with an exposed bulb. It's the only light in his room (no ceiling light), so it's on frequently in the evenings. Of course, it gets hot, but we taught Oliver not to touch it. I made a mental note to get a cover for it but never did. I could kick myself for not having gotten a cover for it yet. Jo must have wandered into his room and grabbed the bulb. I feel like I failed both of our kids. I had punished Oliver for his sister's injury, and I hadn't treated Jo's hand properly (a band-aid? Ouch!). Her hand doesn't look too bad, and she doesn't seem to be in any more pain. Good grief. I feel so awful. Seriously, she was in so much pain last night, and now it all makes sense. I wish I'd realized what happened last night so I could have cooled her hand off and properly treated her.

Happy girl again today:

A poor photo of her injured finger (it's hard to take a picture of a two-year-old's hand):

Learn from my mistake. Replace light bulbs in reach of little kiddos with LED bulbs and get a good protective cover that doesn't transfer a lot of heat. My poor baby girl, and my poor little guy. I hate that I blamed him. Ack! It's going to take a while to forgive myself.

Mommy Fail

I had another mommy fail today. I put both kids down for a nap around 2:30 this afternoon. Things were quiet at first, but then Jo started to cry. I decided to let her cry it out for a bit while I chopped veggies for soup and brewed coffee. She kept on fussing and crying, and I thought, "Geez, Jo, you have to be tired. Just go to sleep already." After about 20 minutes, she finally did. She only slept about half an hour and then woke up fussing again. "Oh well," I thought, "At least she can make it to bed time now." I went upstairs to grab her. I walked into the kids' room and saw her...

She was stuck on her stomach with both of her legs stuck all the way through the crib bars. I pulled her legs out and picked her up. As I held her, she didn't cry. I rubbed her legs in case they'd fallen asleep, but she seemed OK.

I feel like such a failure. I'm glad nothing horrible happened because of it, but, geez, that goes to show how something can go wrong when you least expect it.

FAILED

I failed at motherhood today.

Today is Tuesday, aka garbage day. Andrew takes the trash from the shed out back to the front. Oliver closes the door behind him. I noticed a few times throughout the day that the backdoor was left unlocked, but I was always busy when I noticed it and thought, "I have to remember to lock that later."

Fast forward to 4:30pm. I'm chopping up some cilantro for dinner with my back to the backdoor. There's music playing, so I don't hear what's going on behind me. I glance over my shoulder to check on Oliver and see that the door is wide open. My heart sank. Amazingly, I spot Oliver right away on our back porch, and I ran outside to him. I'm trying to convince myself that he's OK and I'm OK, but I can't help but think about the wooded area and creek behind our house. I'm so lucky I looked right when I did. I can't even think about what could have happened.

Moments later, my neighbor came by. I started to chat with her and confessed what just happened. She told me about the time her daughter broke out of the house. She was two-and-a-half at the time. When her mom was upstairs, she grabbed the keys and left to go check the mail! My neighbor starts freaking out, calling her, searching the house and then outside. She finds her at the mailboxes trying to fit the key into one. Mind you, you have to cross our parking lot to get to those mailboxes. How terrifying for mothers (and fathers, too, as I assume similar things happen to dads out there).

It reminded me of an article I'd read just the other day on this website. It discusses mothers being charged with crimes when their kiddos escape (specifically, when they're napping). What an awful thing!