A short/very late post today, because it turns out I'm the worst Mum in the actual whole entire world.
Only FOUR DAYS after allowing my daughter to DRINK PERFUME, I today drifted off for long enough to allow her time to slam her beautiful face, cheek first, into the corner of my bedside table. She cried so hard that I had to repeatedly stop cuddling her and remind her to breathe. That felt great. Especially when I was able to tell myself over and over that this wouldn't have happened if I had watched her properly.
On the plus side, the bruise was much smaller than I imagined it would be. But then it got bigger. And went purple. Then the bloody thing went and phoned social services.
So, in light of my gross incompetencies as a parent, I have taken until now (22:03) to be satisfied that The Poop can leave my sight for long enough to allow me to...
*a snore from the baby monitor*
What was that?
*races from the laptop and hurtles up the stairs to resume her night time vigil*