Week 18 Day 4: One lump or two?

Today was not a good day for Gavin's head. Falls were had, blood was shed. It was all very dramatic. Maybe more for me than for him.

Earlier today we were at a friend's house in Ann Arbor receiving a shitload of clothes and toys her son (also named Gavin) has grown out of. While we were there Gavin tipped over and hit the back of his head on the edge of the entertainment center. It resulted in a quite a lump with a straight red line through it to mark exactly where head and furniture edge made contact. He cried very hard, but not for very long. I totally kept my cool because that is my job as a mom. Within a few minutes I had him smiling again. I tried to ice the lump, but you try applying any kind of cold pack to a 9-month-old surrounded by new toys and someone else's things to explore. Though I suppose his unwillingness to stay still really was a good sign.

On the way home he fell asleep pretty quickly and that's when I stopped keeping my cool so much. "Is he sleeping or is he dead?" I thought. I glanced back at him and saw his little socked foot twitch. A sign of life. But then he could just be in a coma. People in comas can twitch, right? Damn it, why did I stop watching Grey's Anatomy? Several times I considered pulling over so I could properly check. But I didn't. Which is good because when we got home he was totally alive and happy to see me and really needed that nap.

When Stacy came home the first thing I did was show her Gavin's lump and apologize for being a bad mom. She said I wasn't a bad mom and examined the lump. "Did he lose consciousness?" she asked. "No," I said. "Well then he's probably fine," and with that she scooped Gavin up and hugged him and neither of them fired as Gavin's mom.

I know what you're thinking: "At the beginning of this post she said there was blood. Where's the blood? We want blood!" To which I say, "Woah there, Dracula. This is my son we're talking about not some Russell Crowe Gladiator type shit. Have some respect." And anyway, Gavin did not bleed until after we got home, from a completely different injury.

As I have mentioned, Gavin is quite the crawler. He thinks so, too, and doesn't let anything get in his way, literally. He has kind of a monster truck approach to obstacles in that he just barrels through as if the object is not there, usually opting for "over." The problem is this approach really messes with his balance. This evening, after he was all dressed for bed in his puppy PJs he came crawling out of his room and into the living room where I had, alas, haphazardly left my shoes in the middle of the floor. While attempting to crawl over one of my shoes he tipped face-first into the floor. Instant tears and wailing. Understandably. Granted the space between his face and the floor was only a few inches, but he had his full body weight propelling his face as he stumbled. Stacy scooped him up and swayed with him as he cried. I kissed his head each time they swayed toward me telling Gavin he was okay. Seeing as this was the second time he'd whacked his head right in front of me I felt terrible. If you're a parent of any worth then you really, really, really don't want your kid to get hurt in any way and feeling like you were party to their injuries, however unintentional, is a really shitty feeling. After he'd settled down a little bit I asked Stacy if I could hold him for a little while since I really wanted to hug my son. When I took him he buried his face in my shoulder and continued to cry, albeit much softer. Stacy had a large dark swath on her shoulder where his face had been. Most of it was drool, but... "Is that blood?" I asked. Sure enough, Bear had chomped his bottom lip when his face hit the floor. We had a frozen washcloth in the freezer for teething emergencies so we busted that out. Then he got a frozen cherry in his Baby Safe Feeder (which we call his banana hammock or, I guess, his cherry hammock in this case). This helped make him, and us, feel better.

After Gavin went to bed I showed Gavin my loot from today. Clothes and toys galore. I think I had five garbage bags full of clothes. Gavin won't ever have a reason to be naked now. He and his mama are lucky to know nice people with good taste in clothes. My how I love dressing up my son. I never liked dolls or anything like that when I was a kid, but I adore putting different outfits on my son. Sadly he is not as wild about this and does not take kindly to costume changes. But for now I am bigger and stronger than him. Though judging from the rate he's growing my size and strength advantage will be gone by the time he's four.