Mom, the Paparrazi

As I prepared Ben for his bath he took off on all fours. I somehow thought it was so 'cute' that he was crawling around with no diaper and seized the moment by grabbing my camera. Wouldn't you know it, mid-shot he decides to bless my carpet with his Golden Fountain of Youth. Oh, but I love him anyways...

I Am Here For You, Always.....Until I Faint, That Is.....

Being a Mother of the Year entails a lot. A lot of monotonous bathtimes. A lot of dirty diapers. A lot of laundry. Sometimes a lot of thinking that your husband is also your child and you run a zoo and no one appreciates you and you just want a beer but it's 10:23 in the morning, and that's just not appropriate. What other moms fail to tell the next generation is that situations arise in which you have zero control, and it is the most helpless, overwhelming feeling ever. So paralyzing that maybe you....ah, pass out.

Sawyer fell at daycare on Friday. Happens, oh, about 67x a week. This time, he blew open his chin and was rushed to the ER. I arrived, calm and cool. This was nothing compared to last year when he opened his head and we had to have it stapled closed. Stitches in his chin? Whateva, man! I've had two babies come out of my hoo-hah, this is nothing!

We get Sawyer, who is screaming like a banshee, strapped to a table and loaded up with what seemed like syringes full of numbing medicine and this is what happened -

Brie (in her head): He is feeling no pain, no pain, no pain....breathe. No pain.

Brie (out loud): Hey buddy! Look at you being a big boy! Your mama's big boy!

Sawyer: (spittle, gut wrenching screams from his diaphragm specifically meant to convey his displeasure).

Brie (head): I feel woozy, concentrate! No pain, lots-o-drugs, lots-o-drugs...big old jugs....heh heh, wait, what?

Doctor: Mom, are you OK? You're.....green.

Brie: Just fine! FINE! It's OK, buddy! I love you!.......um, oh shit.

5 minutes later......

Random nurse: Someone grab her off the floor! The mom is on the FLOOR! I swear, get her UP!

Brie: What the f.......Sawyer?

Pat (Mr. Obvious): You fainted.

Brie: No, no I........why does my face hurt?

Doctor: Mom, you fainted. Get up off the floor and lay down.

Nurse: Sweetie, this happens a LOT. People don't like blood. It's nothing to be ashamed of.*

*but I am reading in between her lines, and I KNOW that she thinks I am a weak mother.

Brie: Put my bed next to Sawyer's bed.

Nurse: Nowwwwwww Mom, you need to rest....

Brie: Now.*

*if she read in between MY lines, she saw that I truly did say, 'now, bitch'.

They stitch my precious man back up, and he screams the entiiiiiiiiiire time. I taste bile in my mouth and cringe in shame over fainting and leaving my son. They untie my fat, brave guy and he sits up, crawls over to my bed and curls up and sweetly says, "Sease good boy. Doughnut, Mama? Doughnut?" and I vow to buy him 2 dozen.*

*Of course that's unhealthy, so he only got 1, and the damn glaze got into his stitches and I basically disinfected it with heavy chemicals fearful we would have to go back to the ER due to infection and I would be judged, once again. But I'm a good mom. I was conscious for about 77% of all of my son's pain.