If you can’t find me, it’s probably because Department of Children and Families have hauled me away.
We stuck little guy in a contraption after his breakfast, like we do every morning. Only today, someone (um hum, I won’t name names) didn’t buckle him into his bouncer seat.
20 25 minutes pass, while I brush hair, hand out frozen waffles, and throw peanut butter sandwiches into lunchboxes. I ask B to go check on her brother– she comes back into the room carrying him with her blue eyes wide and clear.
“I found him lying on the floor face down Mama. He was just sitting there. His head was on the wood and his body was on the rug. He wasn’t even crying.”
The kid slipped out of his bouncy seat, falling onto the floor. What kind of mother allows that to happen?
I quickly sweep him up and give him kisses all over her red cheek and splotchy tummy. He just smiles and blinks a couple times.
Finally getting used to the stroller….
No permanent damage.
And on with our day we go.