The day Quin chipped a tooth

 

It is shameful that my first entry of the year is about my lousy motherhood.

Quin is a handful all the time. When he’s with me he drains me out in seconds. When he’s with grandma or mami Ana I feel guilty that he’s draining them.

We were both at the Sanchez house yesterday. As usual, I was working, and he was goofing around with my siblings as a very low demanding audience. He loves to push his stools or his tiny chairs to go everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

An uneven floor caught the legs of the chair, which stopped suddenly. My poor baby boy doesn’t know physics! The inertia threw him violently against the damn chair and one of his tiny tooth could not absorb the impact, and it chipped.

I was not right there with him. I was not playing with him. I was not paying attention to him. I was not looking after him. I was working.

I heard the stump and right after a scream with the right pitch to let me know at an unconscious level that something was not right. I jumped out of my chair and ran to him. I carried him. When I saw a little blood on his lip, I knew he was not being a brat. When the poor thing tried to tell me what had just happened, I could see that there was a new unnatural corner on one of his front teeth.

What do you do? Call your dentist of course. Mine was at the airport minding her own children.   

Was this a life-defining moment for him?

Will he be bullied for the rest of his life?

Will he loose his gorgeous smile?

Am I the one to blame? Of course, it’s always mom’s fault.