Monday, October 15, 2007

Shoot Me

I am a terrible mother. At least, that's how I feel right now.

So, I was sitting at the computer in the big wooden chair when Mary came up to visit me. She was feeling peevish today, and she whimpered to be picked up. So, I moved the chair back a bit so I could do just that. As I moved the chair, I heard and felt a distinct crunchy sound. As soon as I heard it I just closed my eyes and uttered a soft prayer "Dear God, please don't let that have been what I think it was." I then looked at Mary, whose eyes were wide and filled with tears, her mouth wide open in a silent shriek of pain, and her lips blue from holding the silent shriek for so long without breathing. I quickly grabbed her and pulled her up into my lap, and the nail of her second toe was already turning black, and blood was leaking from beneath it. She started to scream in earnest, and I rushed her up to the bathroom to tend her wound, babbling apologies the whole way. She screamed for a good long time, and let me tell you, while I once believed things would be better when she could talk, it's not. There's nothing worse than your baby sobbing "Mummy, it hurts!" over and over again, knowing that you were the one that hurt her, and not being able to do anything about it. She seems to be recovering, though she won't put her toe on the ground which results in a hobbling pathetic sort of limp, which dashes my heart into even smaller pieces every time I see it. She will occasionally whimper softly "Mummy, I need hurts." She's in bed now, but she milked every ounce she could get out of my guilty conscience before snuggling up with Lightening McQueen and going to sleep.

Other than attempting to rip my daughters toe nails off, I had a decent weekend. Yesterday DeeDee was in town visiting her folks and we went over for a short visit which turned into a 6 hour visit complete with an excellent supper. Her Mum is a very neat woman, her house is jam packed full of niknacks and Mrs. DeeDee loved Mary and Frances so much that she made me promise to come back. It was nice to spend time with a friend (sweet jesus I miss having friends) and there is even photographic evidence of DeeDee holding an infant! Today I made jelly. Lots and lots of jelly. Mint, apple and cranberry merlot. My mincemeat is soaking in its own juices, and all I have to do is get my act together and make a tonne of salsa or chutney and Christmas gifts will be done.


Goody said...

Oh God, that's going to cost you many, many, "make-it-up-to-you" toys.

Now, for some unsolicited advice:

Don't get freaked out, but if the toe is broken, it will look much worse over the next couple of days. If Mary can stand it, you can try splinting the toe with a bandage or surgical tape by strapping it to the toe beside it.
Other than that, there isn't much than can be done for a broken toe. The bright side is that they tend to heal fast.

greypanther said...

Oh my, I understand your pain and guilt. Just remember this too will pass and they are more resilient than you think. If you can follow Goody's advice about the toe. And let Mary know that she is loved which I know you do anyways. Try giving her a hug from me too then. And don't forget to get one for yourself Jenn. Make your husband give you a back massage or something to assuage your guilt.

Lady Myke

Stephanie said...

crap, I forgot to get those dresses to DeeDee to bring to you!!!


Poor wee Mary, hope she is feeling better. Give her a hug from me, okay? And I'm sending you a big hug too, I understand the pain of guilt.


Raven said...

(Adding myself to the list of people giving you hugs)

It's okay, Mary will survive. Toe nails grow back. And even if it ends up being broken, toes heal. Buddy-tape as neccesary. (There - professional nurse advice which mirrors professional Mom advice!)

You know, you'll probably feel bad for longer than Mary will. (I know, because I have injured my children too, and am *still* feeling horribly guilty about the time I let Jasen ram the sewing machine needle through his finger, although you can barely even see the spot on his hand anymore.) I think it's part of parenthood, feeling terrible for all the things we do to our children, and not giving them credit for their true resiliance.

Hope all is well in Saskatchewan. Give my love to Frances, and Mary, and Ian, too!