one of those mom moments served with a side of fear, guilt, and empathy.

often, my baby will fall victim to the “trifecta,” or in other words: the poop, tired, and hungry cry. when all things are causing the general feeling of “and now i’m really ticked off!

but yesterday….

it was just a nap like any other, though he was a restless so it took him a few minutes longer to calm himself. nearly forty minutes into his usual 1.5-2 hour nap, he woke up pretty ticked about life…

i usually just let him cry it out for a few minutes when he wakes up early, because it can take up to 20 minutes sometimes for him to go back down. if there is a real problem {i.e. a diaper threatening his life,} he will cry until i come to save him.


it had been 30.

so i got up, went to the bathroom, and moseyed on to his room where i found this:

{he isn’t an ambiturner just yet… so he 
scoots and rolls himself right into the corner. 
can’t tell in the picture, but there is actually 
paint flecks on his face from hitting the bars. 
i want to kill that crib just thinking about it…}

i was horrified. how long had my baby been writhing in pain–in blood–no less, with his mother just waiting around for the world to change??!! {cue the guilt}

i held my tired, teething child in pain and cried with him for a handful of minutes until i noticed he had also unsnapped his own diaper! {that was apparently threatening his life}

fixed that, then fed him, tears streaming down my face….

i suppose its time for bumpers and a monitor real soon…

{so yes, i am going to completely ignore the whole
“we should be afraid of bumpers these days” bit.
why? cause i said so!}