Tuesday, October 14, 2008
While, by that time, Coco was fine and in good spirits, it took my breath away to see her like that. These are the first scrapes and scratches she’s ever had, so that made it all the harder. Her daycare provider came over and explained that Coco had been playing with a toy phone when one of the older girls (2 and a half) decided she wanted the phone. Coco was disinclined to give it up, and so the other little girl grabbed for the phone, which Cora was holding up by her face, and they fought for it. Apparently the other little girl had very long fingernails and so by the time our daycare provider could reach the skirmish the damage had been done.
And the damage is hard to look at. One large crescent shaped owie on her cheek, one on her nose, two on her lips, one on her forehead, and another (smaller) one on her cheek.
While I realize that these things can happen at daycare, it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. Thankfully, our provider cleaned Coco up, and put some Neosporin on all of the owies. But now I have to deal with all of my conflicting emotions: guilt for not being there, fear that the scratches will scar or become infected, anger that it happened at all, frustration in not knowing what to say to our provider in a situation like this, and understanding that kids are not bullet-proof.
For now all I can do is tend to the owies with the utmost loving care, keep them clean and well salved, and kiss as many boo-boos as I’m asked to. I know this is the first of many scabs, scrapes and scars to come, but – as my mother told me many times – the first one is never easy to get over.
Monday, October 13, 2008
As the plane touched down, I was anxiously awaiting seeing Cora’s face as I came down the escalators to the waiting area. While pulling up to the gate (about 15 minutes early even!) I texted hubby to let him know I had landed. A minute or two later as I was jetting down the jet bridge I got a somewhat frantic call from hubby: “What do you mean you’re there? Where are you?” Me: “On the jet bridge, why?” Hubby: “Well we’re not even there yet – we’re about 5 minutes away! You’re really early!” Crap. Seriously? There went my little fantasy about running into my baby’s chubby, waiting arms.
I sadly plodded down to the baggage carousel and plucked my bag from the black and silver river of luggage. Then, I sat down and waited. After about 5-10 minutes I was the only person left in the baggage area save for the airport personnel and the rental car counter clerks. I sat and looked out the door expectantly. Finally I saw them coming up the walkway. Excitement flashed over me again.
I ran to the door and waited just inside. Hubby activated the automatic doors, put Cora down and said “who’s that?” As she studied me for a split second I held my breath. Then she came running pell mell toward me and I was thrilled. I scooped her up and hugged her and smooched her and told her I loved her and that I was happy to see her. By that time hubby had caught up. Cora patted my face and smiled … and then promptly turned around and said “Dah-yee” while reaching for my husband. That was SO not cool.
Since then, she has been a “Dah-yee’s girl”. Totally and completely. Mommy is fine and all, but we want Dah-yee whenever possible. The night I got home, I put her down for the night, just as I always do when I’m home. She looked up at me from her crib and said “Dah-yee?” Then when I left she cried until hubby went up to give her a hug. This whole weekend if hubby went upstairs to get something
I know everyone says these things go in waves – they ebb and flow – that next week I’ll be in high favor. But there is a little part of me that keeps whispering “but what if doesn’t … what if you’re not … what if she’s never close to you again?” I know its silly, but *I* am the Mommy. *I* am supposed to be the superhero. *I* am supposed to be the One above all others. The one she goes to when she realllly needs comfort. So far I’m just the one who helps out when Daddy isn’t available.
For now I’m just doing the only reasonable thing I can. Keeping a positive attitude. (And giving her whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.)