I am officially the world's worst mother.
Well, I guess it had to happen eventually, because just about every mom I know has a horror story like this. Last nite, Baby D. fell out of our bed and onto the floor.
Our nighttime routine goes like this: we feed the babies their last bottles in our room, in our bed. The girls are laying in Boppy pillows. They fall asleep, and I carry each one to their respective crib and put them down for the night. Last nite, the girls were both asleep, DH went downstairs, and I carried Baby S to bed, leaving Baby D. sleeping in her pillow in the middle of the bed.
I put Baby S. down, and was lifting the gate to her crib, when I heard a sickening thud. At first, I thought that DH had dropped something in the kitchen -- then I heard Baby D. screaming. I screamed for DH, he came flying up the stairs, and there was Baby D, face down on the floor next to the bed. She must have woken up, rolled out of her pillow, and rolled off the bed. I looked her over, and she seemed fine. She puked all over me, and then Baby S (awakened by the drama) began screaming too. DH took Baby D. downstairs and I got Baby S. back to sleep. I came downstairs and found Baby D. in her swing, watching Elmo, smiling.
That's when I lost it, and began crying uncontrollably. I knew she was fine, but I couldn't stop. Baby D. is fine today. She's laughing and back to her old self. I wish I could say the same. I just keep beating myself up about it. I feel so terrible. So today I am officially the world's worst mom.
I'm starting to get a little itchy to get out of the fucking house. I haven't left the house for anything other than food shopping since before Christmas and its starting to get to me. DH is going to take me out to dinner on Sunday night - how about them apples?
...unfortunately, he's bringing the MIL to sleep over so she can watch the girls while we're gone.
AND in other news, the girls' little cousin Baby M. will be turning one at the end of this month. This means ANOTHER TRIP to LONG FUCKING ISLAND for the b'day party. The nightmare of Christmas is still too fresh in my mind. I'm nauseous.
Finally, I am so excited about dinner tonite. I love my crockpot, and really should use it more often. I bought a roast beef (on SALE!), seasoned it with salt, pepper and Montreal Steak Seasoning (if you watch Rachel Ray, you know what I'm talking about), dropped it into the crock with some red potatoes cut into bite size pieces, a bag of baby carrots, a couple of sliced onions, a pack of onion soup mix, a can of cream of mushroom soup w/garlic, and ...I'd usually use some wine or broth for liquid, but today I found a can of Guiness stout in the back of the fridge, so I dumped that in. At 6:30 tonight it will be a complete meal, just need to microwave some veggies. Love love love my crockpot!! What's better than a meal you don't need to think about? Sometimes I'm a domestic fucking goddess, I tell ya.
Our nighttime routine goes like this: we feed the babies their last bottles in our room, in our bed. The girls are laying in Boppy pillows. They fall asleep, and I carry each one to their respective crib and put them down for the night. Last nite, the girls were both asleep, DH went downstairs, and I carried Baby S to bed, leaving Baby D. sleeping in her pillow in the middle of the bed.
I put Baby S. down, and was lifting the gate to her crib, when I heard a sickening thud. At first, I thought that DH had dropped something in the kitchen -- then I heard Baby D. screaming. I screamed for DH, he came flying up the stairs, and there was Baby D, face down on the floor next to the bed. She must have woken up, rolled out of her pillow, and rolled off the bed. I looked her over, and she seemed fine. She puked all over me, and then Baby S (awakened by the drama) began screaming too. DH took Baby D. downstairs and I got Baby S. back to sleep. I came downstairs and found Baby D. in her swing, watching Elmo, smiling.
That's when I lost it, and began crying uncontrollably. I knew she was fine, but I couldn't stop. Baby D. is fine today. She's laughing and back to her old self. I wish I could say the same. I just keep beating myself up about it. I feel so terrible. So today I am officially the world's worst mom.
I'm starting to get a little itchy to get out of the fucking house. I haven't left the house for anything other than food shopping since before Christmas and its starting to get to me. DH is going to take me out to dinner on Sunday night - how about them apples?
...unfortunately, he's bringing the MIL to sleep over so she can watch the girls while we're gone.
AND in other news, the girls' little cousin Baby M. will be turning one at the end of this month. This means ANOTHER TRIP to LONG FUCKING ISLAND for the b'day party. The nightmare of Christmas is still too fresh in my mind. I'm nauseous.
Finally, I am so excited about dinner tonite. I love my crockpot, and really should use it more often. I bought a roast beef (on SALE!), seasoned it with salt, pepper and Montreal Steak Seasoning (if you watch Rachel Ray, you know what I'm talking about), dropped it into the crock with some red potatoes cut into bite size pieces, a bag of baby carrots, a couple of sliced onions, a pack of onion soup mix, a can of cream of mushroom soup w/garlic, and ...I'd usually use some wine or broth for liquid, but today I found a can of Guiness stout in the back of the fridge, so I dumped that in. At 6:30 tonight it will be a complete meal, just need to microwave some veggies. Love love love my crockpot!! What's better than a meal you don't need to think about? Sometimes I'm a domestic fucking goddess, I tell ya.
posted by scrappintwinmom @ 2:28 PM
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