Me.
I debated over posting this because, well, it's just more evidence of how bad of a parent I am. But I just decided to be completely honest:
Keeley fell off the bed this morning. Off the end of the bed. Head first. That's a little over three feet. Three feet. And I was right there. I watched it happen.
Thank goodness she is okay.
We were snuggling in the bed with her morning bottle and, after she finishes, she crawls on Donald and I and looks for Buddy and plays in the bed a bit. Well, this morning Donald went to work early and Buddy was outside so it was just Keeley and I in the bed. Things were going as normal and we were playing in the bed. She crawled down towards the end of the bed and was playing with the comforter which was thrown over the end of the bed. She started crawling up on the footboard and I started to go down there to make sure she didn't fall off the bed. Before I got there she started jumping like she does and she jumped right over the end of the bed. I saw her go right over. And there was nothing I could do.
I'll admit I wasn't moving as fast as I should have. I really didn't think she would go over the end. Of course, I knew it was a possibility, but I just didn't think it would happen. And it did. And I should have been there. It's my JOB. The whole point of my job is to keep her safe. I feel absolutely awful. I mean, I know things happen and in a few weeks all will be back to normal and I might not think about it so much, but right now it's still fresh. I can still see her go over the end of the bed and hear her cry. It breaks my heart.
Thank you to those of you today who said nice things to me and shared stories of how your children fell off the bed or rolled out of your arms as you tripped and how those kids are just fine today. It really helped me feel a little better. Really. I am hoping this will just be another story I will share with Keeley when she has a new baby.
All in all, she's okay. I've called the doctor and I know what to look for and, so far, I haven't seen any of the warning signs that something might be wrong. She has a knot on her head and she was a little fussy after it happened. But I would be worried if she wasn't fussy after that happened. I am going to check on her every 2 hours tonight to watch her breathing and just to make sure all is okay. Speaking of, it's about that time and I wouldn't want to win Bad Parent of the Year twice in a row.
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I lost Grandmother of the Year when Cameron was about 9 months old. We had bought the latches for the cabinet doors, but had not installed them yet. He crawled into the kitchen and pulled up on the cabinet door. (Aww...look, he can pull up.) I glanced away to see if Coot had seen the accomplishment when I heard the glass break. Cameron had broken a giant bottle of Jack Daniel's and fallen face first into the glass. Some how he got only one tiny cut. (God watches out for fools and babies.) After I realized that he was OK, and that I wasn't going to have a heart attack, I tried to figure out how to squeeze JD out of overalls. I invented a new drink....Jack and Jeans.
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