My parents have one of those houses, I'm not really sure what they're called, but it's like you walk in the front door and there are steps that go up, and steps that go down (split-level? bi-level?). If you go up, you come to the "living room" where there are couches and such, but it's one of those rooms where there isn't much going on. If you go down the stairs, there's "The Family Room" where you'll find even more couches, a wood burner, and a T.V. This is the hub of the house, the place where everything happens. The problem with this floor of the house, is that it's a concrete floor with carpet on it. Now if you have ever lived in a house with a concrete floor, you know that there is absolutely nothing you can do to this floor to make it not hard. Carpets, rugs, padding, whatever, that shit is still hard as hell. I'm sure you also know that no matter which way you land, if your face smashes off this floor, it's going to hurt.
So we're all in "The Family Room" today, Mum's on the loveseat, Daddy's on the couch, I'm sitting on the recliner, and Mads is playing on the floor. Daddy is calling to Madelynn, shaking her bunny and trying to convince her to come get it. Well Babe really loves her bunny, so she crawls over to the couch, grabs hold of the cushion, and stands up. Daddy is still waving the bunny, and Mads is holding onto the couch with one hand and waving the other hand at her toy. And then she lets go. She let go of the couch! It was like the whole room paused, we knew exactly what was going to happen, but there wasn't anything we could do about it. My parents and I sat there frozen, the fire stopped crackling, and the rattle in her bunny stopped rattling. She was swaying, swaying, going down!! Daddy's hand shot out and grabbed hold of her arm, trying to keep her face from smashing the floor. It was too late though. That baby had to fall on the floor, and all Daddy could do was hold onto her arm while her face slammed into the concrete. Oh the sound it made. And then a worse sound, the sound of a baby that is screaming, not because she's grumpy, but because she feels some real ass pain. Mum swooped, grabbed Mads and took her to the bathroom to put a cold washcloth on her head. Daddy was left on the couch, his arm still stretched out like he was holding onto Mads' arm. He looked like someone had just beaten him with a stick. It was totally not his fault, but I could tell that those screams hurt his heart, and I didn't know what to say to make him feel better. I ran to check my baby, worrying about concussions and brain damage and possibly a seizure or something later tonight. There was a tiny red mark and Mum had it under control, so I went back out to check on Daddy. He still looked sad. I was fighting back tears, but I knew I had to say something.
Me: That's gonna leave a mark.
Daddy: Sure is.
And then we giggled. Mads' screams were just beginning to turn into whimpers, and here I am in the living room, giggling with my Daddy about the big ass bruise that will be showing up on my baby's forehead tomorrow morning.
So I guess the moral of this story is, when something scares the crap out of you so badly that all you want to do is just sit and cry, it's probably a good time to giggle. Actually, the moral would probably be, when in doubt, cover the floor with pillows.
Mads is fine, but she will definitely have a bruise. I know I need to prepare myself for many more situations like this, but do they really have to hurt so bad? I felt it. That shit really hurt.