Bruised Butt/Ego

What’s great about my life is that I’ve learned to have very little shame. I do dumb things. I am clumsy. You get used to the stares. However, falling on your ass while people look on is embarassing, anyway you look at it.

::Sigh::

I took Carter to school this morning. I wore wedges today instead of heels. For stability, you know. That’s me, always thinking. ::Snicker:: Anyway, I got out of the car and swooped little man up and started hustling him inside. I take him out of the carseat IN the car and carry him in. It’s faster. When it’s cold out, I smother him in blankets upon blankets and just rush the 5 feet into the building. That’s WAY quicker than carrying that heavy carseat. He never feels the cold my way. So that’s what I was doing this morning as I rushed up the wheelchair ramp to drop him off.

I didn’t even have time to think. ::Swoosh:: Flying feet. Some shrieking that presumably came from my mouth, although I don’t remember it. I had just enough time to roll in a way that planted my butt and back on the concrete and not the baby. Damn it!! Of course, the 2 other parents walking in rushed over and the Director came hauling out of the building to help me, but the damage was done. My ego was bruised. Made worse by the fact that Carter had a huge grin on his face. That little toot was laughing at me!!

I stood and scooted inside, complete with a layer of kitty litter stuck to my butt from someone’s attempt to give the ground traction. ::Slaps forehead:: Awesome.

The good news is, Carter is ok. And apparently thought the whole thing was a game.

Ugh. It'll be funny when my butt stops hurting.

I DO think it’s funny that on the nights when it’s my turn to get up with the baby, he sleeps GREAT! Last night he went down at 9pm. He slept until 5:30 this morning and went right back to sleep after I brought him into our room and fed him a little. However, the night BEFORE last night, when it was my husband’s turn, he woke up several times. ::Chuckle:: I find slight vindication in that. Just a little payback for everything Scott could do when I was pregnant that I couldn’t. Like, for instance, sleep, exist without heartburn, drink, not be HUGE, not struggle to stay balanced, live without the threat of hostile hormone takeover… things like that.

So, when the baby wakes up grumpy on his nights, I will admit a teeny bit of “Haha! In your face!!”, bubbles up inside of me. Sweet satisfaction.

He'd shake his head about now and claim that I am a "bitter, bitter woman", but that's not true. The justice of it all brings a joyous song to my heart! ::Chuckle::