It was late afternoon, and the sun was bright. It was the kind of day that belongs in May, not March. The dogs walked beside me, uncharacteristically docile. I pushed the stroller and gripped their leashes.
I was still shaking. Even the promise of spring didn’t affect me. The fall hadn’t been that far, but we hit the ground hard. The series of thuds echoed in my head.
I was carrying him when it happened, hurrying down the stairs in preparation for this walk. I was holding the railing—it didn’t help. I took the brunt of the fall, but when my elbow connected with the stair, his head smacked the wall. While I tried to comfort his cries, I checked our injuries to make sure neither of us needed medical help.
As I walked, I was sick, nauseated, waiting for an angry bump to appear on his head, his perfect little red head. I had slipped on my too long jeans. What an idiot, I thought. If only. How could I be so careless?
And I ached already, wrist sprained, elbow throbbing, both ankles twisted.
I heard an engine in the distance. It was audible even over the hum of the traffic in the background. I glanced up the hill and saw it coming towards us.
He saw it, too. “School bus!” he yelled. “Mama, school bus, school bus, school bus!” He held out his chubby arm and pointed with all of his heart, an ecstatic smile on his face. His excitement and joy consumed him.
It was contagious. I felt the weight lift and noticed for the first time that the sun was warm on my face, that I could smell spring in the air.
As we watched the bus thunder towards us, I reveled in the beauty of the day, and of him, and of our family. Forgiveness and acceptance and something else—gratitude that everything was going to be okay—washed over me. An accident. It was just an accident. We were fine.
We were great, in fact.
This post was prepared in response to a prompt for RemembeRED from The Red Dress Club. The prompt was to write about a time of forgiveness. Forgiving others, forgiving yourself. I’d love to hear your thoughts on their piece and your own stories of forgiveness. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Oh, I think we’ve all fallen with a kiddo, haven’t we? Heck, my mom dropped me and I rolled into a parking lot!
I really enjoyed this overall; the opening felt a little cliché to me though… I think the “kind of day that belongs in May, not March” gives enough of what the day is like that we don’t also need singing birds.
I love how you brought it back to his joy at the school bus; that’s the sort of thing I think every mom-type relates to; that all-consuming excitement at something so simple.
I’m glad you were both mostly unscathed in the fall!
Thanks for the feedback–I think you are exactly right. It would be better if I ditched the birds. Great suggestion!
In the interest of full disclosure to anyone reading the comments, I liked Lizz’s suggestion so much that I removed a sentence about singing birds and spring. I couldn’t go to sleep with it in there after she pointed it out to me.
Ouch. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? beating ourselves up for our kids’ hurts. Mine was always with my 3rd- he was clumsy-ish and I was slow-ish to catch him. Almost every single time.
I like your revised beginning. My favorite words are: “I felt the weight lift and noticed for the first time that the sun was warm on my face, that I could smell spring in the air.” As they shifted the mood for me all on their own.
I’m glad that you’re both okay!!
I felt the pain of the fall on the stairs, to the elbow and the head and then to think the little one was in your arms. Accidents happen in life and we shouldn’t let them get us down.
I once dropped my 3 month old baby on the floor as I ran to catch his big brother who was falling off a chair. Oh yes I beat myself up about that one!
I could totally relate to this and I liked how you showed moving on with life and how your son wasn’t nearly as worked up about it as you were. Very motheresque.
I fell down the stairs with you. I know that feeling, the swollen spots on yourself so much worse than what you worry will appear on your baby. And the beating yourself up? Been there, done that. I rode this with you, and saw that bus cause your quiet little one pop up with a smile. When he was “consumed” with the joy, I felt that push any potential pain away from him from the the fall.
Well done!
Came from TRDC.
I recently fell down the stairs while holding my daughter.
I over compensated in order to save her and injured my back.
This post is beautiful. You did a great job of placing the reader in the moment.
I felt the sun on my face.
Great job
You captured well that guilt, that feeling of real pain and emotional pain.
One thing with the beginning: You describe a beautiful day, but then you say you didn’t notice it. But you DID notice it since you’re describing it, if that makes sense. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice it, it’s that it didn’t have its usual affect on you because you were so inside your head.
You might want to take out that line and say, either on a separate line of right after you say you were still shaking, that the beauty of the day was lost on you, or something like that.
Just a thought!
Also, love the description of him seeing the school bus. That’s just how my toddler is when his older brother and sister come out of their classroom.
I completely agree with this suggestion and I’m going to tweak the intro. Thanks for the feedback!
Wow, the same thing just happened to me! I was carrying Miss A down the stairs, in my socks, and slipped, thud-thud-thuding down the stairs. I protected her from the fall but ended up with sore ankles, elbows and worried about more serious consequences. Everything is OK. Carpet guys have been here the last two Saturdays measuring our stairs for that runner I kept talking about getting… We’re *finally* getting it installed. We should have done it a year ago, but, well, you know… Anyway, great description in your story, it totally captured our experience as well.
Yikes–glad you guys are ok. We have the carpet runner and I was barefoot. But I’m sure I’m more clumsy than you!
oh I loved that! the pain of causing an accident to you and your babe to the joy of a small moment. I love how resilient kids are. we beat ourselves up, agonize over what we’ve done, but kids shrug it off and find a new laugh. you captured that very well.
I like your description of this event. I think it is very vividly painted. I felt your stress and the twisted ankles and bruised elbow. *sigh*
Also? I have been there. Not down the stairs (knocking on wood…), but I did launch my 7-week-old infant (now 5) off of my waterbed (my very tall waterbed) onto the floor. This was an unholy alliance of middle of the night nursing on my 1st week back at work and sheer exhaustion. That was a bad morning.
OMG I felt every ounce of pain for both of you!
I have fallen once while carrying my little one, and I think it scared him more than anything, I know it scared the jeeze right out of me!!
Glad you are both okay!!
Oh man! You tweaked everything from the suggestions. Doesn’t give me much to work with.
I felt so bad for you. You described those moments of fear and self recimination perfectly.
I’m glad you’re BOTH okay.
Oh goodness, I’ve been there too. Little accidents happen. I once turned with a sack of groceries that had a glass bottle of apple juice in it, and smacked my son in the nose! I had no idea he was there. It bled like crazy but he was fine in a little while. I cried to though.
This definitely expressed how our mother hearts hurt too when something like that happens… xo
been there with the mommy guilt combined with bruised body parts from falling with a child. thank you for writing your perspective from this, and sharing from your heart!