Hard Headed

So, twice this week I have allowed The Conqueror to fall off a chair. Both times he landed right on the tippy top of his head. Once, it was on concrete. That was the first time and I, not surprisingly, freaked. Completely. Out.

RxMan was grilling and TC and I were on the back porch with him, just enjoying (?!) the damp humidity and Ohio heat. As I have at least 50 times in the past, I sat him in a chair and I sat across from him- probably about 5 feet away. I know, I know, too far. And, yes, I know, you are never to leave a baby out of arm's reach. In my defense, I am trying not to smother my son into becoming a wuss and am trying not to worry needlessly about things that are unlikely to happen.

Well, I guess it wasn't so unlikely. 'Cause he did fall. Really, really hard. And he cried- almost as much as I did. I saw it coming and shouted, "No, CONQUEROR, don't move!!" He, however, glanced my way and continued his descent over the edge of the chair. I jumped and grabbed. And missed. He thudded on top of his head and did a flip onto his back. Then I had to decide if I was going to risk breaking his neck by picking him up.

I risked it. His perfect little face was screwed into a mess of shock, pain and tears. Mine was too. RxMan took TC from me and, after a minute or so, the boy was trying to rip Daddy's glasses from his face. I was still sobbing and yelling that I did not want the baby to die.

Good news, though. He is fine and didn't even get a scratch on his hard head.

The second fall was onto carpet so, totally not a big deal. I didn't even call the doctor. Aren't you proud of me? I haven't told Her Highness yet, though, about either fall. She already thinks she can't sleep over anywhere because I am, apparently, incapable of adequately caring for her beloved brother.