I feel stupid

Put the baby (7 months) in his crib for a nap and about 45 minutes later, my mother calls. I’m talking to her and start to hear Simon crying, but I figure he’s just starting to wake up and can wait a minute for me to wrap up. Then a moment of silence and whump! and a lot of crying. Hang up immediately, run into the room and find that he’s fallen out of his crib and is lying on the floor. I guess he just pulled himself out.

I knew I needed to lower the bottom of the crib because he was starting to pull himself up in there in the mornings. But I thought he was fine for another couple of weeks before it became an issue. Thank God he’s okay… just a bit unhappy about falling out, but not even bruised and didn’t show any signs of pain after a minute or two and is doing great now. Still, I feel stupid. His first real accident too :frowning: Oh well… just wanted to vent for a moment.


“I guess it is possible for one person to make a difference, although most of the time they probably shouldn’t.”

dThat probably won’t be the worst thing to happen to him…

My 2 kids were 18 months apart. We were old pros at getting a baby into a carrier & gathering up whatever else was needed to get out of the house after our 1st. Unfortunately, we didn’t factor in an 18 month old’s curiosity when we put our 2nd into the carrier and set it down on the dining room table. He promptly lowered his sister to floor level to “play” with her, accompanied by the same kind of loud “whump” you heard, Jophiel.

And darnit, she missed being a National Merit semifinalist by 1 point.


Sue from El Paso
members.aol.com/majormd/index.html

That’s okay, I found out the hard way last week that my three-year-old knows how to get out of his car seat all by himself. I pulled up to the gas station and got out to fill up the tank. While I’m standing there pumping the gas, I hear the rear passenger side door open. I turn around to face the car, just in time to watch him jump out of the car and dash across the parking lot. He came really close to getting hit by a car before I finally caught him (he’s fast for a little guy).

Shadowfox
“Most people would succeed in small things, if they were not troubled with
great ambitions.”

  • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Worry not, Jophiel.
Do you have stairs? Be prepared for many a downward “flight”. A coffee table? You’ll soon be reminded of the laws about “things in motion v. things at rest”. How about a bookcase? They’re easy to climb up, down is a different story.

Give him a few more months…he’ll make himself so black and blue that strangers will be convinced that you beat him daily.


“ChrisCTP-…the sweetheart of the SDMB…” --Diane
Chris’ Homepage: Domestic Bliss

Oh yes. When I was 7 months old i had been climbing as is usual, and I took a tumblefrom the back of the couch to the floor, my left eye colliding with the sharp cornered coffeee table on the way down. For my first Christmas and the first time i saw most of my relatives I had a giant shiner, and scabs with a goose egg. And I was a National Merit Scholarship finalist.

When I was little I had a wooden horse on wheels. I could go anywhere on it…or so I thought. Going down a flight of stairs is certainly easy, just not recommended.

And again: my parents loved to cycle. They carried me around with a baby seat at the back of my fathers bicycle. One day he got off his bike and let the bicycle on its support leg. I don’t know what happened, maybe it’s the wind, maybe it’s me, but next thing that happens is the bicycle falls on its side with me strapped to it.

Same thing on a tall chair, except my parents are sure it’s me. I loved to make the tall chair swing from one side to the other. Why the heck would I do that, to experience the physical world?

I figure all those head injuries must compound to something. I’m still turned into a nerd though, so don’t worry. Maybe head injuries can be a form of mental stimulation in moderate quantities. :slight_smile:

These things keep popping back into my memory. When I was six I got walked on the head by a poney (I fell from the poney and he walked on me). I’ve got a scar to show for it. My brain must have to many bruises…

poney??? Bruises you say!

Oops, ‘poney’ is ‘pony’ and ‘to many bruises’ is ‘so many bruises’.

:::add lame excuse about English not being my first language:::

Don’t sweat it, buddy.

Each of my kids have taken spills from their cribs. My middle one, in particular, is a daredevil who’ll climb anything and go anywhere. He’ll walk off a cliff like Wile E. Coyote if given the opportunity. He’s fine, too.

You’ll never be able to keep them 100% safe. You do what you think should do the trick, and the rest is up to them. And “the rest” they can survive and (hopefully) learn from.


Chaim Mattis Keller
ckeller@schicktech.com

“Sherlock Holmes once said that once you have eliminated the
impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be
the answer. I, however, do not like to eliminate the impossible.
The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it that the merely improbable lacks.”
– Douglas Adams’s Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective

Thankfully my son hasn’t had many ‘spills’. Hardly any bruises. I think mainly it has to do with constant supervision. The only times he was hurt was if I wasn’t looking, which was almost never.
I on the other hand have fallen out of tress and down stairs, no broken bones though!
Kids, it’s so so hard.

My son has had alot of spills in his short life… he has a balance problem and at times has been more black and blue than flesh coloured… kids are resilient and they bounce right back… and their unconditional love for you gives you the courage to keep on going…Not to worry Jophiel… your kids will have many many bruises and skinned knees in their lives and they will always run to you for hugs and support… these are the wonderful rewards of parenthood!!

When I was still a baby, my mom had me in one of those carrier/car seat/baby seat deals, and had set me on the kitchen table while she made dinner. Being a happy baby, I liked to kick my legs to make myself bounce. Bounced myself right off the table, and was spared the floor only because I landed in one of the big wooden chairs at the end of the table instead…

When I was seven, I bit through my bottom lip. It resembled a button hole, and until it was healed I lived in constant fear that my dad would make good on his “threat” to sew a button to my top lip so he could shut me up when I talked too much.

My youngest brother was such a daredevil when he was learning to walk that my parents actually had to cage him in at night to keep him from falling out when he climbed over the railing of the crib! I remember getting ready for bed, and my dad going to my brother’s room with the padlock to fasten the top down on the crib. Determined to suceed, however, he figured out how to lift up the mattress so he could get out through the underside… found this out one morning when he woke our parents up to ask to be put back in! Incidentally, this is the same brother who, when he was six, hid in a rabbit cage during a game of hide and seek and fell asleep. This particular cage was built onto the side of a barn and was about five feet off the ground… Took us several hours, all the neighborhood parents, and a few cops to find him.

Holy cows Jenn! I’m told I did the exact same thing, only my seat was on one of those old freezers with the rounded edges (yes, my grandmother actually had one of those in her kitchen, not the garage like most people.) My mom apparently plunked me up there to help with dinner, and as I gurgled and kicked merrily, I scooted closer and closer to the edge until I was skittering over onto the linoleum. We won’t even get into the time my mother rolled her Volkswagen bug and I flew right out the back window at the precise time it popped out and landed feet first in a ditch. (I landed, that is, not the window.) My mother came scrambling to my shrieks expecting to see me horribly injured only to find I was simply voicing my displeasure at the state of my wet sneakers, nary a scratch on me.

As a further public service announcement, I will just add that bunk beds and ceiling fans are not a good combination.


Sue from El Paso
members.aol.com/majormd/index.html

When I was a little kid, i remember i did something on my tricycle where I ended up slicing my chin open on the bumper of our Pinto station wagon. It required stitches too (I even had a scar for a while).

When I was in elementary school, i remember running up some step bleachers and falling face forward onto the edge. I cut the upper part of the bridge of my nose and it looked like I got shot with a pellet gun (and blood was streaming down too).

Not to mention the time when i went flying off of my bicycle in junior high and skinned my knee through my jeans so badly I now have a scar there to remind me!


‘The beginning calls for courage; the end demands care’

Oh! I forgot to add: When I was a little kid and we still had bunk beds (Shared a room with my twin), I used to fall out of it regularly. This was a five foot drop. Often I would not even wake up either (yes, I am THAT much of a heavy sleeper!). I have even fallen out with the rail/guard on it too.


‘The beginning calls for courage; the end demands care’

Doobieous: My nephew does the same thing, on a regular basis as I understand it. It’s to the point now where my brother and sister-in-law are both like, “Who’s turn is it to get him?” And he’s never hurt, and always sleeps through it. He’s a resilient little guy! :slight_smile:

This happened when Greg was crawling and learned how to crawl up steps and stand if he holds onto something.

One night I went down the hallway and thought Greg was with my mom. She thought he followed me. When I got out of the room I was in I asked where Greg was. She didn’t know. Then I heard crying from outside. Greg had climbed up the stairs that lead to the outside, stood up by holding on to the latch and when it opened he fell out. The worst part was, it was winter and there was a lot of snow on the ground. He was shivering from the cold (I wasn’t gone that long…under 2 minutes but those kids can get to places FAST!) He was on a high porch that had a big drop on the left. If he decided to crawl to the left he would have fallen off the porch into a five-foot snow drift. I still want to cry when I think of it. :frowning: And I called the landlord right away to get a different type of latch for the door.


MaryAnn
Sometimes life is so great you just gotta muss up your hair and quack like a duck!

Hey, Momotaro – I did the exact same thing when I was three;I rode my wooden horsie down a long flight of concrete stairs. I fractured my skull, I’m told, but it couldn’t have been too bad since this was in 1965 and I didn’t die. No ponies ever stepped on my head, though, as far as I know.

Catrandom, who also sewed through her finger in her first home ec class. It feels about like you’d think.