And The Mother Of The Year Award Goes To....

*silence*

Not me!!!

Waaahwahhh.

This past weekend was a doozey for my need-to-be-the-best-mom-self-esteem.  It started last Thursday/Friday.  After yet another sleepless night, exhaustion starting to take it's toll, I decided to make my best-mommy-in-the-world-pancakes.  I make them every few days to switch up Emma's usual scrambled eggs and puffs breakfast.  This particular morning Emma was slightly fussy, and like every other morning, I do my best to keep her quiet so that Ryan can get a little more sleep.  I know, I should be Wife of the Year atleast, right?  Back to breakfast...I decided to place Em on my hip.  Cooking with one hand is practically a breeze 9 months in to this motherhood thing.  You never truly have 2 free hands.  If you cannot do it with one hand then you're most likely not going to do it all.  Everything was going smoothly, Emma was calm, pancakes weren't burning, coffee was brewing, Ryan and the dogs were still sleeping, then I decided these pancakes needed a little jazz.  Sprinkles.  Funfetti pancakes make everything better!!  In this case, they don't.  As I turned to reach for the sprinkles - something out of routine - I momentarily forgot about Emma on my hip.  She was originally farthest from the stove, but as I turned she was mere inches.   I'm not sure if she reached out or if the back of her hand just landed next to the pan, either way, the next few seconds were blur.  My visions of a smiling baby and smiling hubby chowing down on their funfetti pancakes quickly vanished by the sudden burst of tears and cries from Em.  Her hand had touched the pan.  It took seconds for it to register but when it did she was crying and I'm certain my face expressed nothing but pure horror.  I rushed her to the sink, apologizing frantically while placing her hand beneath the cool water.  I shushed, cooed, apologized - lather, rinse, repeat.  Then it came.  I couldn't stop it.  Meltdown city.  Uncontrollable tears now came from me, not Emma.  Ryan was awake now.  It couldn't be helped.  As he emerged from the bedroom to check out the kitchen scene the tears flowed stronger.  I was practically sobbing and apologzing in blubbering, short sentences.  By this point, Emma had calmed.  The back of her left hand was bright red.  Ryan took her from me so I could wipe my tears.  He tried to calm us both down, but truthfully, I was the one who needed calmed.  Emma was fine.  Ryan kept telling me so.  Within a minute she was smiling at him and paying no attention to the new wound.  I, however, blubbered for minutes on end while I finished those stupid sprinkle pancakes.  Those pancake were now littered with my guilt-ridden tears.  I should have never had her that close to the stove.  I should have paid more attention.  I should have ignored the sprinkles and followed the normal protocol.  Should have, could have, would have....But I didn't.  Ryan's hugs and Emma's smiles couldn't take away the guilt and heartache I burdended myself with.

I'm happy to report that Emma seems fine.  Her hand has bothered her since the incident.  If it weren't for the awful scab and redness on her hand you would never know it had even happened.  She was playing and waving like any other day.  I'm praying there is no scarring.

The rest of the weekend was filled with teething and falls.  Now that she's cruising from toy to toy she stumbles quite a bit.  I try to catch her, but I just can't always get there in time.  Poor baby had a red mark between her eyes, on her forehead, and I'm pretty sure she had a mark on her chin.  Thankfully they were all immediate reactions and none of them stayed.

I've been so frustrated...with myself.  I feel as though my patience is wearing thin and I cannot say that it's truly with Emma.  I hate feeling this way.  I feel as though I'm letting her down.  I think I ultimately feel like I'm letting myself down.  No, I won't be winning any Mother of the Year awards any time soon.  I know..I'm only human.  I love her.  I care for her.  I would die fo her.  These things make me a "good mother."  Somedays though, it's still not good enough...

Someday I'll get this mothering thing right....Right?

Just another part of the parenting journey...You cannot fault me for wanting to be the best mommy I can.  I just feel like I'm totally sucking at it lately...