18-3-2009 - First Blood

My mood while writing this blog: Thoughtful

I knew it eventually had to happen. Especially since my little girl has started to cruise around the room. But, I was trying hard to be vigilant yet not get in the way of exploring. Such a fine line…

We were in her nursery. I was folding and putting away clean baby clothes in her chest of drawers. A few steps away, she balanced on an over -turned wicker basket – sturdy, reinforced with metal, fabric-trimmed with the sage green that matches her room. The basket usually holds her colorful board books filled with simple pictures and words. But today she decided to dump out this basket - strewing books all over the floor. So far, she decided to leave the other three baskets of books full. She was so happy to be walking around and around the tipped over basket with her little baby toddle that was a half lean and half scamper. I folded the undershirts with snaps on the bottom and her soft fleece jogging suits while watching her bend and reach for her Mirror Me book. It is one of her favorites. Little mirrors reflect her pudgy baby face on each page. She can’t help but laugh at herself.

As she reached for her little book, she lost her grip on the basket. In that split second, she tried to rebalance herself and reestablish her handhold on the basket. Well, my little girl is still getting the hang of this gravity thing. Instead of keeping upright, she seemed to launch herself in a spinning, ice dancing pirouette up and over the top of the basket. I inhaled quickly and saw her flying through the air like a little pink bird dressed in footed pajamas. On the other side was another wicker basket, purple, filled with big kid books – paper pages, paragraphs of words, and hard cardboard covers.

Crash! Facefirst, she stopped her turn suddenly in that basket of upright books. Silence. I froze trying to comprehend what just happened. Shriek! Quickly, I make the two steps to her and scoop her up. “It’s OK, Little Girl,” I say as trying to evaluate her tear streaked face. She has a little scrape between her eyes. Nothing big – right? Then, she lets out another howl. I see blood. It is on her lip. “OK, Mom, it’s OK,” I say to myself. As she cries, I see that there is blood coming from her newly emerged top teeth. Bright red drips cover her bottom lip like lipstick. I hold her bouncing up and down in the middle of the nursery. “What to do??” I think to myself. A picture of my Mom flashes across my mind. When I was little, most ouches were helped by wetting a washcloth and applying to the wound. My baby continues with more crying and boogers running watery from her little nose. “OK, Baby,” I try to comfort her. I dash down the hall and soak a washcloth with cold water. I put the white terrycloth by her mouth and she latches onto it. Instant quiet. In a half a minute, she is happily kicking her little legs like nothing has happened…yet so pleased to be sucking on the cool washcloth. I can see the bleeding is slowing. The fall just broke the last skin covering her new little teeth. Sigh.

So, this was the story of the day my daughter had her first scrape from falling down. I’ve learned that I can handle it … and so can she. I’ve also learned that her Grandma is very wise. And, I’ve learned that no matter what I do, I can’t always stop the fall: but, with each step and each fall, my little girl learns about the world.