I have never in my life felt as helpless as I did at about 8:05 a.m.
My little guy was laying on his belly on the bed while I was on my commode and my husband was in the kitchen preparing the little guy’s oat cereal.
The little guy looked at me with that grin. I knew instantly what was about to happen.
“Stop, son! Don’t roll! NO!”
My son dropped off the edge of the bed on to the floor below as my husband came tearing in from the kitchen. The little guy cried a lot less than I did. And he had this look on his face that almost said “Did I hurt mommy?”
I snuggled him until it was time for his breakfast and we both relaxed.
Even if I had been in my chair I wouldn’t have been able to wheel to a place I could have stopped him. It was awful to know he would fall and know there was absolutely nothing I could do to change the outcome.
I will not let this minor incident – in the scheme of things – determine how today will go. Tonight is the first home football game. Our team is taking on a new addition to the conference and I hope it is the beginning of a terrific season. I’m bummed to be missing it, but I’m not ready to be out and about just yet.
Separated at Birth 