Queen Bee

February 2004 (1)

"Mommy, no!" Des yelled as loud as he could, his little legs somehow taking him miles faster around the house than mine ever could. 

"Baby, please! Come on! It's ya nap time! You love nap time!" I exclaimed desperately, pain shooting up my spine as I continued to run after him bent at the hips, hoping to god I might be able to just catch him finally. 

"No! I said no!" He yelled once more as he began to run under the table. Just as he was doing so I caught him at the waist, abruptly pulling him back, his tiny head accidentally clipping the edge of the hard wooden table as I scooped him up into my arms. Within an instant, excruciatingly loud screams and cries filled the entire kitchen, spiking my anxiety and stress almost immediately.

"Baby, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I screeched, my hand flying to his head as I cradled it tightly and left numerous quick pecks all over the bruised area. Sitting him down on the table as fast as I could, I searched endlessly through his thick, curly locks for any sign of blood, but thankfully there was none. As Des continued to cry, his little hand wiped at his wet eyes while he clearly struggled to inhale a decent breath. Picking him up once more, I held him closely against my chest. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." I whispered as comfortingly as I could, rocking him back and forth ever so gently. Continuing to stroke his back, he eventually quieted down after a few minutes. "Let's go for a nap now, yeah?" I softly asked again. 

He nodded against my shoulder. "Otay." He said quietly, his small voice slightly quivering. 

Turning, I carefully carried him all the way through the kitchen, up the stairs and directly into his room before laying him down on his tiny toddler bed. "Ya feel okay, baby?" Squatting down beside him, I brought the blankets over his little body. 

"It still hurts." He pointed towards the left side of his scalp where I'm sure the growing goose egg would be in a few hours. 

"Does it hurt really bad or just a little bad?" I asked in that same soft tone. 

"Little bad." 

I nodded. "If it starts hurting really bad, yell for me, okay?" 

"Otay." He nodded back, his swollen and puffy eyes innocently staring at me, easily making me feel like the worst mom in the entire world. 

Choking back tears, I leaned forwards to kiss his forehead. "I love you." 

"I love you too." Running my hand over his hair one last time, I gave a gentle smile before standing up and making my way out of his room, purposefully leaving his door open in case he needed me so I could hear him better. 

Walking downstairs, I inhaled a choppy breath, still trying my absolute hardest to not let the tears come through, but how do you not cry when you feel like the world's shittiest mom? Yanking my phone from the island, I knew I at least needed somebody to talk me off the edge, and there was no way in fuck that was about to be Marshall. So instead, I quickly dialled Zoe's number, hoping to god she was back from work already so I wouldn't be interrupting her with the sob story that is my life. 

"Hello?" She answered, seemingly from the car as the only background noise I could hear was just the sound of a few horns mixed with dead air. 

"I hit Des' head against the table." I immediately responded, my voice sounding extremely disheartened. 

"What?! What happened?! Is he okay?!" 

I sighed deeply. "Yeah, he's fine. It was an accident but I think I'm goin' to hell for worst mom of the century." 

She laughed. "Fuck off. You're the best mom I know." 

"Thanks." I moped sadly, sliding my back down the cupboard door until my ass hit the floor.