0 comment Thursday, May 15, 2014 | admin
I'm an idiot.
There was a huge bit of concrete paving laid against the wall from the building this week, and the little voice in the back of my head - the seventh sense I've developed when I see something that sprog might potentially hurt himself with - went "You should ask them to put that down." I didn't. I completely forgot about it. And yep, today, sprog managed to grab ahold of it and bring it down on top of his foot, bruising the hell out of it. Nothing broken, thank the deities but I have spent the past hour berating myself as I KNEW that was going to happen. Sometimes, I get slack, I think sprog has learned that things will hurt him, and not to touch. But today has been One Of Those Days where child has refused to listen, even going out of his way to do the opposite of what I tell him to do...and my own built-in failsafes didn't catch this in time.
So it's down now, sprog is having a long sleep to heal up (he shuts down into sleep when he's ill or hurt), and I'm taking slow, deep breaths. Next time I won't ignore my instincts.
Now, even though the day has been pretty crap, I've managed to have a bit of an upswing. Gardening for Disabled Trust has contacted me and is now wanting to talk raised beds! WHOO! This is a very good thing as I've been thinking about the reseeding but I've also realised that, like it or not, I need steps to help me get round on the lower level. The incline is still just too steep. (mutter mutter damn my legs). I'm so incredibly chuffed about this, though - good gods, do I dare to think I could have this garden completed by this year?!
So in between parental self-flagellation and general Languishment, I'm thinking a big YAY, and will put my head together to think of what would work best. But first I'm going to go up and carefully, quietly peek at my son for the dozenth time in the last half hour just to be sure he's okay....
There was a huge bit of concrete paving laid against the wall from the building this week, and the little voice in the back of my head - the seventh sense I've developed when I see something that sprog might potentially hurt himself with - went "You should ask them to put that down." I didn't. I completely forgot about it. And yep, today, sprog managed to grab ahold of it and bring it down on top of his foot, bruising the hell out of it. Nothing broken, thank the deities but I have spent the past hour berating myself as I KNEW that was going to happen. Sometimes, I get slack, I think sprog has learned that things will hurt him, and not to touch. But today has been One Of Those Days where child has refused to listen, even going out of his way to do the opposite of what I tell him to do...and my own built-in failsafes didn't catch this in time.
So it's down now, sprog is having a long sleep to heal up (he shuts down into sleep when he's ill or hurt), and I'm taking slow, deep breaths. Next time I won't ignore my instincts.
Now, even though the day has been pretty crap, I've managed to have a bit of an upswing. Gardening for Disabled Trust has contacted me and is now wanting to talk raised beds! WHOO! This is a very good thing as I've been thinking about the reseeding but I've also realised that, like it or not, I need steps to help me get round on the lower level. The incline is still just too steep. (mutter mutter damn my legs). I'm so incredibly chuffed about this, though - good gods, do I dare to think I could have this garden completed by this year?!
So in between parental self-flagellation and general Languishment, I'm thinking a big YAY, and will put my head together to think of what would work best. But first I'm going to go up and carefully, quietly peek at my son for the dozenth time in the last half hour just to be sure he's okay....