A Bloody Christmas Eve.
I’m not a perfect parent and that’s okay.
Christmas Eve, I told my son no. He looked over his shoulder with a devilish grin and darted the other way. Right as his golden curls were bouncing and he started to giggle at this fun game Mama was playing, he tripped. My ‘no’ was not out of fun and there was blood everywhere.
When Clarke tripped, the metal prong of a plug went straight into his bottom lip. My heart instantly sank. Blood stained my shirt. Calmly, I did everything to stop the bleeding. I had to stay collected so Clarke wouldn’t freak out more. Luckily, I have a really good poker face.
Looking back at this moment, there were plenty things I could have done to prevent it. I could have not wrapped the Christmas presents. I could have been a helicopter mom. I could have installed padded floors and walls in his room. However, God let this be a learning moment.
He survived and the scars will fade.
In this social media fueled world, parents forget that we all start out with the same set of guidelines. 1) Don’t let your kid die. And 2) Good luck. That’s all we’re given. So let me fill you in on a secret. We all fuck up.
Kids are going to fall. They’re going to get bumps and bruises. They’re going to scrape their knees. And I promise, it’s going to be okay.
Christmas morning, Clarke’s bottom lip was nice and swollen. He still ate all of his breakfast. He still opened up all of his presents. And still raised hell. He survived the Christmas Eve Tradgedy of 2017 and he will survive my parenting.
If our parents could do it without Goggle, we got this.
Warmest Wishes, A.