I’m delighted that this week’s OopsFiler – ooh look at me, I just made that up! – is one of my favourite bloggers and my very own blog wife don’t you know, Motherhood The Real Deal. I guess you could say that so far, my guest post series has included stories of mainly ‘self-inflicted’ disaster (here are the #OopsFiles featured to date if you’ve missed them). But sometimes, my OopsFiler’s post involves a ‘disaster’ inflicted by someone else. And occasionally, that some one else is a small person…a small person belonging to erm the OopsFiler themselves, no less. Dear oh dear….
Readers of my blog may know that I rather love(d)the expression “better than a poke in the eye”. You will find my blog posts littered with it, thrown around carefree in a s***-spraying type manner, with very little regard for what it actually means to be poked in the eye. Yes, full on, poked in the eye, with the full force of a toddler’s finger, right where it really hurts.
Never again will I use the phrase so lightly.
Because I now know, in no uncertain terms, what it actually means to be poked in the eye.
AND QUITE CLEARLY NOTHING COMES ANYWHERE NEAR AS BAD TO IT!!!!
We all know the kid-inflicted injuries can be brutal, heart-stopping, gut-wrenching atrocities. From trying to head butt your brain right out of your skull, to excrutiating scooter-shin which comes from thinking you are clever by hooking the scooter they only used for a split second onto the buggy annihilating your shin in the process.
But being poked square in the eye has to take the absolute biscuit. You would have thought after two and a half years around a little being who has absolutely no regard for your own health, safety and well-being I would have learned by now not to have let my guard down. In hindsight, being in close physical proximity to any toddler should only be approached while wearing a head shield a la Darth Vader like this one…
And God do I wish I had had one that fateful bath-time last weekend.
I was about to be on the receiving end of the mother of all OOOOPS progressing into OOOOOUCH then OOOOOH MYYYY GODDDD then WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS moments.
I had finally got my toddler tyke into the bath, then out of the bath (huzzah!), and we were heading for the pyjama home run with a little cuddle action as a sweetener. The next thing I knew, I was blinded and experiencing a sensation much like someone shoving a piece of Lego in your eye, or Edward Scissor hands trying to pick out a bit of bum fluff from your pupil.
Cue WAILLLLLLLLLING LIKE A BANSHEEEEEEE (much like at childbirth).
Add insult to injury by toddler laughing in my face. And no, it wasn’t an awkward moment laugh but a Look at you, you silly big idiot of a big girl I am an evil egomanic that has absolutely no empathy in such situations kind of laugh.
I sloped off clutching my oops! of an eye leaving the perpetrator in my wake of pain. She was on her own now. This was about survival so of course I swiftly passed the toddler buck on to daddy.
The problem with a major poke in the eye is not only do you have the constant reminder of this oops moment in the form of a throbbing pain FOR DAYS but you also have the visual representation of it too in the form of an eye patch.
When you think eye patches you might think a hot (or perhaps not-so) swash buckling pirate, or perhaps a be-jewelled Gabrielle. Personally I sort of visualised myself looking a bit like this:
Nope, not for me…a cotton pad plastered on with a bit of masking tape was all we could rustle up. I’ll be off to raid the craft box for some glitter later.
Talya is a freelance writer & blogger. Driven by the pure frustration (and of course amazing experience!) that is motherhood, and her disbelief at how much people don’t talk about or share, she created Motherhood: The Real Deal to get some of the issues and struggles mothers should be aware of out there.
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If you’d you like to take part in the #OopsFiles Guest Post series click here for details
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