Today was slightly different. Most of the morning was the same. After I begged the dog to get off my numbing legs, I thought it was a good time to try something I read. My son doesn't enjoy "tummy time". He usually gets fed up after a couple of seconds, so I decided to try a trick I read about online. Place him at the edge of the bed on his belly while you sit next to him on the floor and encourage him to continue.
Sounds easy enough, so I was up for it. It actually worked great! We had a grand ol' time. Then, I had a sudden urge to go to the washroom. He was still enjoying himself, but I felt the safe thing to do was to place him on his back and a couple of inches away from the edge. I rushed to the washroom, by the time I got back, my son was head first in a basket looking up at me in a very disapproving manner.
With all the morning exercise, he had managed to push himself off the bed and into the basket compartment under his bassinet. I am lucky that caught his fall, even if my bed is just a mattress and box spring on the floor.
Today, I realized two things. One, my son is no longer a helpless newborn and he is growing into a strong little infant. Two, the life of this other human is utterly depending on me and of course my husband as well.
I decided to share this moment because I felt like the worst parent and that he would never recover. Until I had a chat with some of my parent friends and family members, only to realize that this was my initiation into parenthood.