Saturday, January 05, 2008
Help! I am being abused by my 6 month old. . . .
Yes, I know you're thinking, "this girl is crazy." But no, I have realized yesterday morning that Madison, in her cute baby way, has become abusive toward me. Then it got me thinking about every mother (and the fathers) and this world wide tragedy. Let me explain the moment that I had my epiphany. I was awakened by my little angel around 5am; not unusual but not her normal habit either. She normally wakes around 7am, has a bottle, and goes back to sleep until 9am. But anyway, we have our bottle 2 hours early. I put her the bed with me and settle in to get my 3 hours of extra sleep. Which I need because I have a sinus infection on the right side of my head. Yes, I know it's strange but I have a headache and swollen nasal passages on the right side only! I haven't been getting much rest due to being half sick. So we are back in the bed and she is playing and getting very upset that I am not up and playing with her at 5am! Not to mention Tony is trying to get that last 15 minutes of sleep before a PFT at 6am that very morning. He finally gets up and she is now in full force talking and flailing around. I reach over and try to calm her a little and the next thing I know there are 3 little knives (her fingers) poking my eye out. I bolt up right in the bed, hot pain searing through my left eye, I'm crying "Huh, Huh"! She is now quiet wondering where I went probably. My eye starts to tear but now my tears are burning my eye which I can't even open. I stumble to the bathroom and tear it up trying to find eye drops. I find them, and try to insert the moist cool liquid in my flaming eye. I can't do it; I can't open my eye. So just as Tony (he is oblivious to any of this) is walking out the door I get to him and he does it for me. NO RELIEF! It doesn't help one bit. So I remember my good doctor telling me the day before to put a warm compress over my right eye to help relieve the pressure. I gently scoop the baby up and put her in the crib and she starts crying and fussing. But now I can't see she has blinded me! I put the moist, warm wash cloth over my eye and it helps. It takes about 30 minutes for my eye and Miss Madison to both calm down. As it becomes quiet again and I start to get drowsy (by now it's 6am), I notice that my Darling Husband has left his back up alarm clock on the night stand. He uses it in case the power goes out and the digital one stops working. Good plan, but it makes this annoying TIC TOC, TIC TOC, TIC TOC. In my mind I am screaming put me out of my misery! You see I am stuck if I make any noise at all Madison will wake up and I won't get my precious sleep that I so desperately want. I can't get to the clock because it's on the other side of the room. So while I am laying there I start fantasizing about being an abused mommy. Mommy just wants a little sleep, what's wrong with that? Then I started thinking I know I am not the only one with this story and there are millions of these kinds of stories, billions. As I lay there, a victim of circumstance, I am reminded of the time when she slapped me across the face at 3 months old, and I think about when I was pregnant with her and I know my abuse started as early as the 6th week. I think of the future and I know this is not over. My beatings have only just begun. Through it all I never once had the idea or inkling to harm by little Angel. I simply moved her away because I needed to attend to my vision problems. She's good too; she knew my right eye was already maimed so she dug deep and got my good eye. So this epidemic of parent abuse is a world wide cause. We have no documentations or police reports to back up anything. The police are no help because they show up and try to handcuff your baby but there little wrists just slip right out. The statics aren't even worth mentioning because this topic is too broad. It's you verses them and they usually win. Tonight Tony and I were tortured by her crying for 2 hours and I knew she was tired. We did everything we could think of, even playing with her just made her mad. I rocked her and she cried, we laid her down and she screamed. This is verbal abuse, I tell you! But in the end we have peace and quiet again. And the best part of all this is we have the most perfect baby in the whole world. All the good times out weigh the tough times. The tough times aren't so bad either. I love being Madison's mom and I can't believe that some mother's (B.S.) don't know how precious there babies are. I don't really consider myself a victim of abuse, but maybe a glutton for punishment! I love my life and I wouldn't trade places with anyone. This story is meant to be funny and light hearted. Please don't misconstrue my rants as crazy talk or that I don't love my baby. Because in the end, "I pity the fool that comes between me and my baby!"