Last night I went upstairs and left Carter with Scott. Scott was going changing him and was going to feed him then bring him up to bed. I was tired and was going to go lay in bed and read.
While applying my new wrinkle cream (I am going to be 28 next month), I heard… something. Muffled by the closed bathroom door. I opened the door and realized that my little man was crying. Which is weird because I knew he was eating. He doesn’t cry very often unless he’s hungry. And that need was being met, so what the heck? I listened for a second and he continued to cry. Which, quite frankly, is just not Carter’s usual behavior. So I went downstairs.
I found Carter lying in Scott’s lap SCREAMING. Scott was examining him. Panic welled up in me and I asked what happened… twice. Scott basically told me to shutup and give him a minute, in a much nicer way. I did. But it was hard. I didn’t know if Scott had dropped him or what had happened. It looked to me like he was looking for broken bones and I was panicing internally.
He finally told me, above Carter’s screams, that a light bulb (our energy efficient bulbs… just saying) had randomly fallen out of the fan/light fixture and came crashing down onto the coffee table showering shards of glass all over. In my concern for my baby, I hadn’t noticed the glass that was EVERYWHERE. Carter didn’t seem to be cut, but apparently this event made an extremely loud noise and scared him.
Since Carter was still screaming like someone was stabbing him and there had been glass in Scott’s lap, I suggested we look him over in better light. After taking him to the dining room and examining him and finding nothing, he was still inconsolable. I finally took him from Scott because the mommy in me could.not.stand. that kind of sadness from him anymore. He was so upset by this point his lip was stuck out and quivering and he was hiccupping/breathing so hard he body was shaking.
He was terrified, poor thing. Neither of us had EVER heard him cry like that before. Not even when getting yucky shots at the doctor. It freaked us out. It shook me up. And it shook Daddy up, too, although I don’t know how readily he’d admit that.
Scott went to clean up the kamikaze bulb remains and I took Mr. C with me upstairs. I gave him a gentle bath, just to be 100% sure there were not tiny shards of glass anywhere on him and then brought him into our bed. He finally calmed down and even smiled at me a couple of times before I put him down in his bed.
Of course, he kept jerking awake and FREAKING OUT.
My son was traumatized by GE.
Eventually, he went to sleep and we were left minus a light source and with a baby who will probably fear light fixtures his entire life without remembering why. ::Sigh::