On our way to a coffee date with our friends Marie and Carson we took tumble number one. I say we, as we were both involved in this one.
Marie is a dear friend who I met in prenatal class. We got fat together and have a similar view on parenting which is delightful. She is a funny woman who doesn't judge me when I tell her I pinched Mason and swore at him for not sleeping. She listens and sympathizes when I bitch about life with a baby, but also reminds me about all the awesome stuff. It's great to have someone like her around. Our kids are a week apart in age, so they tend to reach milestones around the same time, which is good and bad. We share the Baby Mama Drama.
So on our way to coffee time, walking down the massive hill near our apartment I did a header on a patch of ice and fell to my knees. Masonite was in his carrier on me, and came for the ride, hitting the back of his head on the sidewalk. I'm not sure how severe this blow was, as he had on his toque and 3 hoods, but he screamed like I had ripped his toe nails out. I also started crying, and called my husband to see what to do. He reminded me that he was also new to the parenting thing, and had no idea. I watched for signs of concussion, and we continued onto our play date, everyone feeling fine.
The following day, while packing up some clothes in preparation for the move (just the mention of the move makes me light headed) he decided to work on his moves by rolling off our king sized bed onto the floor. He made sure to make a pit stop with his head on the giant rubbermaid on the way to his destination. Now I know at this point you are thinking a lot of things like "watch your damn kid", "why is a seven month old alone on the bed", etc, and believe me, I thought it too. Truth be told, I was 4 feet away from him, and his quick moves took place while I was reaching for a shirt in the closet. He is fine, I'm pretty sure I was more damaged by the fall. I know it's early in the year, but keep me in mind when the nominations for Mom of the Year come out.