#10: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Don’t Run and Hug My Child When She Falls

I haven’t had a bad mom story for a while. I’ve actually been quite a good mom lately. I’m not saying this to brag, there have certainly been moments along the way.

One of those moments was this summer when the Chiquita was sitting in my low-to-the-ground beach chair. We were watching Hubs wash his car and enjoying the warm sunshine when the Chiquita insisted on climbing up onto my lap.

“Do you want to sit?” I asked her.

She nods.

“Okay. I’ll go get another chair.”

I got another chair and set it next to mine. I scootch her out of my chair and say, “There. Go sit in your chair.”

I had gotten her the exact same chair. I suppose I could have just sat in the empty chair but I was trying to make a point. That being kids move for adults.

So she’s playing in the chair now. Like bouncing around and getting up and down.

“Stop playing in the chair,” I tell her.

She looks at me and laughs while she continues to bounce around and eat her Goldfish. She also continues to play in the chair.

“Stop playing in the chair, Eva.” I say again, this time with the mom tone. “You’re going to fall!”

Not even one minute later she falls backwards in the chair, the Goldfish falling out of her cup and are now all over her face and chest as she lays backwards in the chair that now lays on its back in the grass with her legs straight up.

The Chiquita’s face looked almost the same as Kim K. except Chiquita also was covered in goldfish. Can you see why I laughed??

I looked at her, and as God is my witness I burst out laughing. I couldn’t stop laughing. There was a wet Goldfish stuck to her cheek. Her mouth was wide open.

I don’t think she could believe I was laughing at her.

I composed myself and yelled, “See! That’s why I told you not to play in the chair!”

Then I set down my iced coffee, got out of my chair, picked her up and hugged her hard.

“Now are you OK?” I said, squeezing her little body tight. “That’s why I told you not to play in the chair,” I repeated, nicely this time.

“Yes,” she said as I picked the wet Goldfish off her face and threw it in the grass.

Then I laughed for about another five minutes.

I would say that’s a bad mom moment….

And then there was last night.

I was reading 50 Shades Darker (yes, yayy I finally finished 50 Shades of Grey!), and my eye lids were slowlyyy closing. I was determined to finish the chapter. I’m one of those weird people who hates setting a book down in the middle of a chapter. Or does everyone hate that? I mean, it seems normal enough to me.

I set the book on my chest. I will finish this chapter…I think. I’m slowly drifting off into dreamland when I hear a little voice yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!!”

These days the Chiquita has been all about me, which I love, so I was surprised she was calling for Daddy. In hindsight I’m wondering if it’s because she thought she might get in trouble. Hubs is definitely the softie.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” I keep hearing followed by whining. Not crying, let me clarify. Just that whiny fake crying crap.

I wake up and see Hubs sitting next to me playing his video game. The book is still on my chest. And the Chiquita is still whining.

Knowing I’m not finishing my chapter tonight I set 50 Shades on my nightstand and drag myself out of bed thinking: What is this kid still doing awake?

I walk into her room prepared to yell: That’s enough! It’s time for bed, now go to sleep!

I walk in the door. I stop dead in my tracks. The Chiquita is standing there. Yes, she is standing next to the crib holding her bear, Mr. Bear, in her arms and holding onto the crib.

Holy sh*t! I got out…now what?!?

She looks at me.

I look at her.

I just stand there.

Finally I muster out, “Wh-what are you do-doing?”

Then, “How did you get out of your crib?”

Hubs yells from the master, “What? She got out of her crib!?!”

He runs into the Chiquita’s bedroom. “Curls!” (his nickname for her) He yells as he runs up to her. He takes her in his arms and says, “Are you OK baby?” He’s hugging and kissing her.

In my defense, I was probably still half asleep, but I am snapped awake and standing there feeling like a complete idiot!

Holy shit, my kid fell/climbed/jumped whatever out of her crib, and I don’t even pick her up and hug her and ask her if she’s hurt? No, I just stand there like a complete shit head staring at her.

Wow, I’m a bad mom.

I jealously watch my husband console our daughter. God, how does he come out looking like the knight in shining armor when he wasn’t even going to get his lazy ass out of bed?

“Eva sandwich!” I finally yell, running over to hug them both with the Chiquita snuggled tightly in the middle.

I plead insanity, because I really do think I was half asleep and completely shocked to see my kid – whom I placed inside a crib – now standing outside of a crib.

At least I didn’t laugh at her. Pretty sure I redeemed myself with Munchkins the next day. :)

6 thoughts on “#10: Does It Make Me a Bad Mom If – I Don’t Run and Hug My Child When She Falls

  1. My M’mere used to smile real big & say, “Look at you, brave girl! You fell & now you’re getting right back up! Wow!” So, of course, wanting to be that brave girl who made grandma smile, I’d always jump right up & run around, just to prove how ‘brave’ I was! Never broke a leg, though. Wonder how that scenario would have gone down…?

  2. Oh I love that, she sounds so lovely!
    When we were kids my mom used to say to us “if you hurt yourself, Im going to smack you”
    So when we hurt ourselves we never went running to her crying, its part of life.
    And I turned out just fine. I think there is too much nannying of kids these days.

    1. LOL I love that!! Thanks for stopping by! :) I really do love your blog. Such an inspiration and I will continue to read. I followed you on Twitter, too. Hope you’ll follow back – @jlee5879blogger.

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