Here is my "Mama Fail" story:
Jack and I were having a lovely day. He was in a particularly good mood. A smiley, giggley little guy. His all time favorite spot to be is on his changing table. I have no idea why. Maybe because it usually means he gets to ditch the diaper for a few minutes. Maybe because it brings him closer to us and he can see our face while lying flat. I have no idea. He loves the changing table though.
So, his diaper is changed and we're ready to go back into the living room. He's smiling and laughing at me and I clip the binky to his short sleeve shirt. Then his expression changes. There was a pause. Then a blood curdling scream. I stare at him and think, "Good grief, moody much?" Then I realize...hmmm. I think that's his, "Ouch Scream" (yeah, I'm starting to figure out what these different cries mean...yeah me.) I stare at him a second more and realize, "Oh crap! That scream started right after I clipped the binky on...oh no I didn't...oh yes I did!!!" Yep. Sure enough. The kids little arm fat got clamped down into it. Broke.my.heart. So sad.
The worst part of it is I tried to do it to myself to see what it felt like and I couldn't clamp it all the way down because it hurt too much. Yeah. I'm a stellar mother. Good thing they don't remember these things. :) Yikes. His little war wound actually doesn't look as bad as I thought it would. Oh yay.
Anyways, there's my awesome Mama Fail story. Lesson learned...look out for rogue fat rolls on baby.
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