oy vey...ouchies

...what a morning. In order to beat off some post-move blues, I had this sweet (read: naive) little plan to get up, play a little, have breakfast, clean up and then head to the pool. Well, two and a half hours later, Ari was in my arms (for the third time this morning) sobbing over yet another owie. Obviously, I decided to nix the pool idea...with that kind of an a.m. track record, who needs the risk? And it was probably the right thing to do because a half hour after his last accumulated goose-egg, he fell asleep on my shoulder. I guess he just decided the morning was a complete wash and he would try again in the afternoon. Me too, kiddo, me too.

Tally for the past 15 hours:

• one large, purple goose-egg on his forehead from ramming himself into the edge of his crib last night
• one, becoming-larger, goose-egg on his eyebrow from falling into his toy box today
• one nice-looking red impact mark by his ear from same
• one bruise/bloody scratch combo on his side from slipping off the door of the dishwasher and scraping himself down the corner (I told him to never play on the dishwasher door but does he listen? Noooo....)

...what a shitty mother I feel like at times. But what can I do? The kid has a battering ram for a head. In more ways than one. Sometimes I wonder from whom he inherited his head-strong nature...and then I choose to not think about it. Because it wasn't me. Nope.

And so, no pool to beat off the post-move blues...I'm blues-ing it on my own with a cup of joe and my blog (how ungodly pathetic is that?). But wait, I have a call to return! And so, I will blues it up a little with a good friend. Hopefully (dear God), my next post will be a bit more cheery.