I’m the Worst Mom of all Time

No, I’m not. But sometimes it definitely feels that way. The amount of mistakes I make on a daily basis is astounding, so of course from time to time I have to look in the mirror and say, “Damn I am the worst mother of all time.” This blog is all about calling myself out, and I sure as hell am nowhere near being perfect and won’t pretend to be so. The instance that brought on my particular feeling of doom and gloom today? Jack fell off the changing table. No, not only fell off. Luckily, there was a metal space heater right below him to soften the blow to his head with. And I was right there, I saw it happen right before my eyes. My baby, flying through the air, and I wasn’t fast enough to stop it.

Now, he got over it pretty quickly and was within minutes already pulling the last of the remaining hair from the cat’s back and laughing hysterically. But I was haunted and remain haunted still. The image keeps playing over and over in my head, terrible mother. Funnily enough when a fellow mom came by for a visit (thank god for fellow moms) and I told her what had happened she laughed and said, “Sweetie, these things happen all the time. Ask me how many times my boys have hurt themselves. I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” No judgement. Just a smile. So I feel better. But now I am back to being the overprotective mother that I was when he was born, he is back under lock and key.

“Did Jack learn from this experience?” you might wonder to yourself. No. He did not. My little genius tried rolling off the changing table again at the next diaper swap.

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