Surviving Childhood

I remember the first time Khan fell off the couch (note I said the FIRST time). He was four months old. I'd propped him up next to me while I folded laundry (and maaaaaaaybe I was also watching "Divorce Court"). All I know is I looked up at Judge Lynn Toler for one second and BAM, Khan was on the floor. He cried for about forty seconds; I cried for fifteen minutes. Cue a panicked call to the doctor and a hurried office visit-where Khan was pronounced perfectly fine-and a weeks-long wallow in guilt.

Now, eight months later, every time Khan falls, hits his head, faceplants in the carpet, walks into a wall or pinches his fingers in a door, I pat his head and say distractedly, "There, there. Walk it off."

The more mobile he becomes, the more accident-prone he seems to be. The kid is covered in scratches, bruises and tiny cuts, and I have no idea where most of them came from. My day consists of: crawlcrawlcrawlBAMwaaaaaaaahtheretherewalkitoffwashrinserepeat.

In fact, the other day The Scientist confessed that Khan had fallen and cracked his head on a rocking chair while in The Scientist's care. It was obvious he felt terrible...and I laughed in his face. Since he works all the time and I stay home, Khan is on my watch almost all the time. Feeling bad about the baby getting hurt is just SO eight months ago. I'm not going to let him fling himself down the stairs or anything, but I've learned that lumps and scrapes are par for the course with any baby, especially an adventurous boy with no fear or concept of the laws or physics or gravity. And if all the mothers of boys whom I know are right, I have broken bones and stitches to look forward to.

Eventually he'll learn. Just today he discovered that if you torment Hellbeast long enough, she'll scratch you. Of course, he had to do it approximately seventy times before it sank in, and by tomorrow he'll have forgotten and will have to do it seventy more times, but I'm confident he'll get a clue. Someday.

Hey, Mother Nature knows what she's doing. Babies have soft skulls and heal like Wolverine. You can swaddle them in bubble wrap and feel lousy every time they go bump, but then you'll perpetually feel like crap. Give 'em a kiss and turn 'em loose. It's better for everyone that way.