Beating Myself Up

Having kids means accidents happen... right?

The reasonable, grown up, adult side of me knows and understands this... but the Mom part of me, wants nothing to do with accidents.

The Mom part of me wants so badly to just get the fuck through my children's childhoods without stitches, casts, and ER visits.

The Mom part of me... for whatever reason... associates accidents, with failure.

Now let me be clear... I am not judging your accidents. 

YOU are allowed to have accidents.

I would never judge a fellow Mom... but I do, unfortunately, judge the shit out of myself.

For me? Accidents equal failure.

On the job accidents... like when Girlfriend ate tattoos when I was standing no more than two feet away from her?


Or when she ate deodorant and I had to call Poison Control?


Or when she fell all the way down the basement stairs last Monday...




I am still so sad, and still hear the thud, thud, thud of her on the stairs every time I close my eyes.

I will skip to the ending... and tell you that she is just fine, and cried for no more than two minutes before tackling her brother to the ground... leaving me and my tears in the dust.

I know kids fall down the stairs all the time... just... not my kids.

I should have / could have / would have done things differently in hindsight... isn't that always the way it goes?

It's times like these, when I thank my lucky stars that Girlfriend is a meatball child, with a little extra padding all over... because she took those stairs like a champ.

It's times like these that I look at my dolls and remind myself... these things happen...

They are kids...

They are resilient....

And ...

As long as you are there with open, safe arms, to pick them up when they fall... then...

You. Have. Not. Failed.

Now if I could just get myself...to believe... myself.


  1. I know just what you mean. My little one loves climbing stairs and I once walked into the kitchen for five seconds only to hear a thud and then the loudest, hear wrentching cry ever! She was trying to climb up the stairs and fell face first into them. It left her with a huge bruise that reminded me I was a terrible mom. Then this weekend my husband was watching her and the same thing happened. I won't say I was glad it happened, of course not, but it did remind me that babies fall and shit happens. He's always so vigilant and cautious and I knew that even if I were with her she probably would have fallen the firt time anyway.

    We really need to stop being so harsh on ourselves as mother and as women in general. Can't say I don't beat myself up though either!

  2. I use to fall down the stairs all the time when I was a toddler and I turned out fine (I think?). My parents like to tell the story of the time when I was 2 and they heard me fall down the stairs and I walked into the kitchen and put my hands on my hips and said, "I fell down those damn steps again."

    1. LOL! Come on! For real? That is hysterical!

  3. oh. one of the hardest parts of being a parent. so hard!!! im so sorry :(

    my two biggest fears are Braeden falling down the stairs or falling off his bike. im sure as time goes... my fears will change, but currently... those are them.

    so far the worst was him chocking on a hungry hippo game piece... that was at the TOP of a shelf WAY out of his reach.


    on a much brighter note... if you havent already entered my strider balance bike giveaway... there is still time :)

  4. At least you can admit you are being hard on yourself. That HAS to count for something (and the fact that she's alright!)


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