My Cub

A toddler’s life is basically in constant peril. I figure that it is my primary job as a mother of a one-year-old to make sure he gets by day to day without running joyously into traffic or jumping into the deep-end without his floaties. I am the safety patrol but even my amazing mommy-powers are occasionally debunked by my wiggly little man-cub.

Case-in-point: Doug is running wildly around the house earlier today when, THWACK, he runs straight in the corner at 5 mph (which is like 35 mph in toddler speed). Ryan is the first on the scene. Doug is screaming. There is a goose egg the size of an actual goose egg accruing on Doug’s forehead, and the mom is panicking. The safety patrol has failed.

I run to the fridge and grab a bag of frozen corn. Ryan is rocking Doug, who is still wailing. Ryan puts the corn on Doug’s head which only aggravates the screaming more. I am still panicking. I call Ryan’s mom who I know will be able to get me through the situation calmly. I ask her if we should take Doug to the ER and she informs me that probably a little Motrin will do the trick.

Ryan jumps into the car to the drugstore and I hold my sweet sobbing baby in my arms. I take him to the bathroom and put a Spiderman band-aid right under his “ouchie.” Doug sees his band-aid in the mirror and immediately stops crying. He is healed. It is a miracle.

I take Doug into the kitchen and get him a cookie and some ice cream. Ryan soon joins us with Motrin, a 20 oz. bottle of sprite, and a bag of skittles… all for the boy. Doug is now considering running into the wall more often.

Barely-Related Side Note: Ryan and Doug were playing later on this evening and Ryan shoved a teddy bear down Doug’s shirt. Doug looked down at his newly protruding belly and said “Ma Ma.”