...OK, all the talk about Britney almost dropping her baby- and the video for all the world to watch. Yes, I do believe that Britney is a train wreck and that she is tragic at this point...but well ...um...truth be told...confession time here...I dropped my baby. Twice. And I don't mean almost. I mean drop-on-the-ground baby dropping. And I still consider myself to have been a fairly good mom.
Lets go back in the way-back machine and let me tell my tale. When I was a new mother it was a time when fashion dictated (and I was still at an age when fashion did dictate to me), that young hip woman of my era wore platform shoes. Ever being the young hip woman, I of course, wore platform shoes. I was young and hip. Priorities.
So I am walking (read: rushing) down the frozen food isle in Shop Rite. I am in a hurry. We are on our way to somewhere and I had to stop to get something (details, details). I turned down (up?) the isle, and my ankle turned and I came tumbling down from my lofty platform shoes. First Born Baby Girl child in my arms was sound asleep, all bundled up in her beautiful white snow outfit (being February and all)...and sleeping baby girl slid out of my arms and up (down?) the frozen food isle as I landed flat on my stomach. She really did slide. It was as if the world s-l-o-w-e-d down as I watched her slide out of my arms, unable to stop her, as I was falling myself.
Some kind, sweet, savior dairy-stock boy saw the whole thing, and as I am screaming about my surely dead and/or maimed baby girl child, he whisked her up and handed her to me as I got to my feet. I was hysterical, certain I had killed my first born. She was sleeping. Soundly. Never even stopped that adorable nursing-in-your-sleep sucking motion that little babies do. It took me an hour to stop shaking and I kept waking her up to make sure she was still breathing. She was. She was fine. I was a mess.
The second time I dropped the girl-baby, amazingly, I was wearing the same shoes. One would think I had learned the lesson. But remember, I was young and hip, so I had to wear the platform shoes. We were leaving my then-husbands Uncle Tony's house. Their house was up on a hill, so that meant we were walking down said hill, in the dark, and it was still February, (read: ice and snow). Just as we got to our car, I tripped and fell in the dark on snow covered rocks that were on the side of the road. Yup, I dropped her. Again.
My then-husband was about ready to leave me by the side of the road, this being the second time I had dropped the baby. But again, she was fine, being so bundled up with the same white snow suit, she was just fine. Again, I was the mess.
Young and hip mom threw out the platform shoes and switched to Frye boots. Despite her mother, first-born-baby girl grew up and today she is a remarkable young woman who is a wonderful teacher. I am no longer young or hip. Thank God.