But it did happen last week.
After a long, long day, I stayed up late finishing some chores. Missy had a string of nightmares and incidents involving too much water before bedtime, resulting in practically no sleep. In the morning my fuzzy brain was distracted, thinking of the day ahead, rushing to get everyone fed, dressed, snack-packed, pottied, shoed, and out the door; worrying about too much other than the tasks at hand.
I went through the motions of the morning, swept the crew into the car, and dropped Little One off at school with Her snack bag and a kiss.
Back at home, I started pulling together the Stuff I needed for a day out with Littles. I reached into the cabinet to make a bottle for Baby Banana. And froze. My brain was still sluggish, so it took a few seconds for it to send the proper message to my heart.
Which was: STOP BEATING. THE WORLD IS ENDING.
In the cabinet, Little One's calorie drink powder sits next to Baby Banana's formula powder. In cans just the same shape and size. The labels are different, so it's not hard to distinguish. But as I reached for the formula, I noticed that the other can was missing. I remembered I had run out of it the night before. Which means that, in my haze and haste, I had reached for the only can in the cabinet. And mixed my horribly milk-allergic daughter a drink of milk-based formula. I had basically sent Her to school with a pink plastic cup full of poison.
I called the school in a panic and they pulled the poison from Her bag. Thank goodness I realized my mistake before snack time. I brought the right drink right over, and other than the teachers probably questioning my sanity, there was no harm done.
But there could have been.
Aren't those haunting, as a parent? The could-have beens?
It was one heck of a good reminder to slow down, breathe and focus, and take things one at a time.
My goodness, parenting is such a ride. Some days you craft and cook and go to the museums; you feel like you're doing ok. And then some days, you nearly kill your children.
Or maybe that's just me. Yikes.
After a long, long day, I stayed up late finishing some chores. Missy had a string of nightmares and incidents involving too much water before bedtime, resulting in practically no sleep. In the morning my fuzzy brain was distracted, thinking of the day ahead, rushing to get everyone fed, dressed, snack-packed, pottied, shoed, and out the door; worrying about too much other than the tasks at hand.
I went through the motions of the morning, swept the crew into the car, and dropped Little One off at school with Her snack bag and a kiss.
Back at home, I started pulling together the Stuff I needed for a day out with Littles. I reached into the cabinet to make a bottle for Baby Banana. And froze. My brain was still sluggish, so it took a few seconds for it to send the proper message to my heart.
Which was: STOP BEATING. THE WORLD IS ENDING.
In the cabinet, Little One's calorie drink powder sits next to Baby Banana's formula powder. In cans just the same shape and size. The labels are different, so it's not hard to distinguish. But as I reached for the formula, I noticed that the other can was missing. I remembered I had run out of it the night before. Which means that, in my haze and haste, I had reached for the only can in the cabinet. And mixed my horribly milk-allergic daughter a drink of milk-based formula. I had basically sent Her to school with a pink plastic cup full of poison.
I called the school in a panic and they pulled the poison from Her bag. Thank goodness I realized my mistake before snack time. I brought the right drink right over, and other than the teachers probably questioning my sanity, there was no harm done.
But there could have been.
Aren't those haunting, as a parent? The could-have beens?
It was one heck of a good reminder to slow down, breathe and focus, and take things one at a time.
My goodness, parenting is such a ride. Some days you craft and cook and go to the museums; you feel like you're doing ok. And then some days, you nearly kill your children.
Or maybe that's just me. Yikes.
It's not just you! One day I forgot to buckle Linus into his car seat because I was in a rush on a super hot, super muggy day. It happens to the best of us, all we can to is keep on trucking and count our blessings. Don't beat yourself up.
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