I'm a good Mom Damn it...

Ok, so it's been a while, I apologize. Things have been so crazy around here with the big inspection we had at work that is FINALLY over, thank God. Work hours have been long and crazy and working weekends and stuff, but now that it's over I can relax a little. Well, not really because we still have a few things to do to finish up the house. Speaking of which, it is apparent that the deck companies in this town don't want a dime from me. I called around to get a few quotes for refinishing the deck and most people have never called be back to set up a time to come look at it and of the two people who did, I never got the quote emailed to me from one company, regardless of calling for like a week, and so I just said screw it and decided to go with the other one, even though I thought the quote was a bit high, and now that I have accepted the proposal, the damn people won't call me back to let me know when they can come or what the hell is going on! I am SOOOO frustrated with this crap! I just want to burn the damn deck and call it a day...

In other news, Liam had his first visit to the ER a few weeks ago. And this story is the reason for the title of this blog... So it started out as a quiet night. I was reading a book on the couch and Greg was playing a video game. Liam was playing with his toys and all was well, or so I thought... At some point Liam decided he wanted a snack. Instead of asking me or Dad to get him one, he took it upon himself to try. So his snack cabinet is one of the top ones above the counter. Little Monkey decided to pull a kitchen chair over to the counter, climb up and get himself a snack. Well, he pulled the chair over to the opposite end of his snack cabinet so he had to walk the length of the counter to get to the cabinet he desired. Apparently, and this is all speculation because no one was in the room, he was walking along and when he got to the stove he tripped. It looks like he tried to grab the microwave door to stop himself from falling and the door hit him in the forehead. Then he fell off the stove onto the hardwood floor. This is when we became aware of his adventure. So of course he cried and screamed like he was dying. He had a little scratch on his forehead from where the microwave hit it and a little knot on the back of his head from when he fell. Now, none of this concerned me as kids fall and bump their head all the time and it's no big deal. An I know what to look for as far as signs of a concussion so I figure we are good. But no... Liam gets done crying and then decides he needs to groan/wheeze every time he breathes out, like he's in pain. So after 10 minutes of that i call the nurse advice line. She tells me I should probably bring him in. By this time he's acting listless and extremely tired and unlike himself, so I think it's possible he may have a mild concussion anyways, but the breathing is what really got me worried. So, we take him to the ER.

Of course, halfway there Liam is fine. Laughing talking, being a goofball, and breathing fine. But we've committed to going so we still go. So we get there and Greg checks us in and we wait. I take Liam to change his diaper and put him in some pajamas since I don't know how long we will be there. The whole time I am changing him he is screaming like a mad man in the bathroom . Not screaming in pain, but like he's having a blast. I've never seen him so excited to get in his pajamas before in my life. When we get back out he wants to run around and act a fool in the waiting room. We get called back for initial check up from the nurse, weight, temperature, blood pressure, that stuff. As I explain why he is there to the nurse he looks at me like I am about to win the Worst Mother of the Year Award, and asks 'Well, why was he on the stove?' I wanted to slap the shit out of him. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying 'He was making up dinner, Asshole.' Instead I explained how he pulled the chair over and was trying to get a snack. I swear if I wasn't in the military and he wasn't an officer, I would have said it... So after that, we waited for the doctor. Liam was still running around acting a fool when the doctor finally came in so it was obvious he was fine. After a quick check of his head and ribs and telling us things to look for and come back for, he went to go get the discharge paper work. Well, the lovely nurse we had before was the one who brought us the papers. And of course he would look at us and say 'Make sure you keep him off the counter.' I looked at him and snapped, 'It's kind of hard when he can get up there by himself, and as much as you might think it's possible you can't keep your eyes on them all the time,' and then I walked out.

Now it's obvious this guy doesn't have kids, or he would realize that shit happens. Kids climb, they get hurt, such is life. But for him to imply that it is my fault for not watching him 24 hours a day or taking well enough care of him is insulting. And when you are worried about the well being of your child is not the time for someone to be insulting you. He doesn't know me and he doesn't know my son. As much as you think you can watch your kids every second of every day you realize it is impossible. The second you turn your back they are doing something potentially dangerous. It happens. Luckily this time it was a false alarm for us, but it's not going to be our last visit to the emergency room I can tell you that. Hopefully next time we don't get jerk for a nurse.

I care for my son like any good mother would. I feed him right, bathe him, clothe him, put a roof over his head. I take care of him when he's sick. I cuddle him when he first wakes up. I play with him, spend time with him, and take him places to have fun. I make sure he has everything he needs and even a lot of things he doesn't. I discipline him when he needs it and above all, I love him unconditionally. In fact let's rephrase this, I am not a good mother, I am a GREAT Mom...