When we got back from our morning walk, I set Xander up on the sofa with a sippy cup. I puttered around, getting his play area ready--blocking off a section of the room with giant tupperwares, laundry baskets and boxes, setting up his foam mat, selecting toys that Xander likes and is not tired of, running the microfiber mop over the area so that he doesn't end up with his belly looking like a microfiber mop--a bunch of meticulous stuff for a supposedly simple activity. In the middle of this, I heard a thump, and turned around to find Xander on the floor. He commenced screaming. I held him and shuddered, in disbelief that I had let my child crash to the floor. There was even blood (a little, from his lip. I'm not sure how someone with no teeth can cut his lip, but he did).
Xander stopped bleeding and crying pretty quickly and started playing contentedly with his toys. I eventually calmed down, too. After a half hour of fun, it was time for his nap. I put him down, sleeping, in his crib. Then I realized that I had gone the entire morning without changing his diaper.
He's still napping now, in what must be quite a bit of pee. If he were older, I'd buy him an ice cream cone to make it up to him. What do guilt ridden mothers of infants do?
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| Scooting around in his baby pen |
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