I fully understand that as a little boy, there are things that are going to happen to Turner is entire life. He is going to have scraped knees, bruises and cuts, many of which I will not be able to explain and will have no idea when or how they happened. If I had it my way, I would put him in a plastic bubble. He would never be able to play sports, or go outside for that matter. I would keep him with me at all times, safe and sound.
If you were to look at Turner yesterday, it would look like he got attached by a baby cat, and I would have no one to blame but myself. Turner’s fingernails grow at lightening speed. They are no longer the soft little nails that he has as a newborn, they are hard cause some serious damage, which is evident on his face this morning.
I have had family members tell me that fingernails need to be cut, and I will not let them do it, because as his mother, I want to do that. The idea bothers me even when I am doing it because he lacks the ability to sit still, so it makes me feel better if I am the one to take care of his grooming.
Well, yesterday had made about four days I had gone without clipping them. When I took him to the doctor, I didn’t get him out of his carseat quick enough for his liking and he started to pitch a fit. On his right hand, his middle finger was chipped and the corner was too sharp and he scratched himself a couple of times on the face. I of course felt like the worst mother in the universe because he had little scratches, so I immediately bit off the problem nail.
As soon as I got him, I clipped all of his nails and have now decided to make it a daily routine to avoid future problems. I mean I want to avoid strangers seeing my babe in public and thinking that someone was not caring for him properly and let something horrible and tragic happen to him.
I know things like this are unavoidable, but as a mother, I feel terrible not being able to shield him from it. I know I cannot go screaming and crying and having a panic attack every time he gets some sort of boo-boo. I also have accepted that fact that a lot of times, a family member or friend will be the one responsible for Turner, and on their watch something may happen, and it is no more their fault that it would be mine. Accidents and boo-boos happen.
Probably shouldn’t admit it, but my younger sister’s daughter has taken more than one tumble down the stairs when I or someone else was looking at her and no more than a couple feet a way. But kids will be kids.
Luckily, the scratchers were hardly noticeable this morning, so the marks of my failed mothering abilities are no longer visible to the masses.
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