I thought I was going to be doing something nice for Lucy. It wasn't for BB's benefit. What it turned out to be was a scarring, scary, cold event.
Today, thru determination, I actually took Lucy to the park. We haven't been going for a long time. Since school began and ... well, since before that, as well, like when BB was born, I haven't had as much time and energy. Sometimes it's cause I'm being a lazy douchebag, but sometimes it's because I'm sincerely lazy.
No, but seriously, a baby and a toddler are a lot of fucking work. Jimminy Christmas I never have time to sit down anymore. I can't wait till they're older. I love my babies, but I can't wait till I don't have to wipe their asses anymore.
Recently Lucy got a bike. That in and of itself is an interesting story, but for now we'll just say it was donated. But her legs are too short, and her mind is too underdeveloped, to get how to pedal it. So, lucky for me, it's got a long handle on the back, which turns and acts like a steering wheel.
I hadn't taken her outside since we picked the thing up, so the logistics of it are still a learning process. Today I tried carrying BB, diaper bag on my back, and pushing Lucy in the bike. That got pretty tiresome by the time we actually got to the center of Cowen Park.
Okay, here comes the brutal blood and pain. I gave her one last push up the hill, onto the grass with the circular concrete sun dial outer perimeter sidewalk. It was a way-too-hard push. Oh God to think back on it makes me cringe. I can still see it clearly.
The bike lunged forward and tipped over and she fell off, right onto the sidewalk, right onto her face. It was bad.
Dada was a bad dad.
I went to get her up and she had these five pretty bad scrapes on the back of her left hand. The poor girl. She was scared and in pain and crying and had dirt all over wounds. I couldn't embrace her properly cause of my zippery leather jacket and I had BB in my left arm, just watching and sucking on her coat, soaking it.
Her cheek had a red bruise on it. Covered more surface area, but was less deep than the hand scrapes. Goddamit. I hurt my daughter during what was supposed to be a trip to make her, specifically, happy.
I got her cleaned up, much to her chagrin, and she started going towards the swings. She was really shaken.
A mom, a doppleganger of my communications class lecturer, showed up with her daughter. She was a talker, and we started talking. I liked her. Then a park worker dude showed up with a leaf blower. Big noise--big scary for Lucy. She was crying and coming over to me and looking generally very uncomfortable.
Then dude pulled out a lawn edger thing that you push around like a lawnmover and makes a hideous noise. It scared her more than the leaf blower. Lucy eventually starts to freak out, and the park trip gets cut short.
Oh well.
The lesson: don't push your daughter so hard on her bike, dumbass, she'll fall off and get hurt and you'll hate yourself.
Today, thru determination, I actually took Lucy to the park. We haven't been going for a long time. Since school began and ... well, since before that, as well, like when BB was born, I haven't had as much time and energy. Sometimes it's cause I'm being a lazy douchebag, but sometimes it's because I'm sincerely lazy.
No, but seriously, a baby and a toddler are a lot of fucking work. Jimminy Christmas I never have time to sit down anymore. I can't wait till they're older. I love my babies, but I can't wait till I don't have to wipe their asses anymore.
Recently Lucy got a bike. That in and of itself is an interesting story, but for now we'll just say it was donated. But her legs are too short, and her mind is too underdeveloped, to get how to pedal it. So, lucky for me, it's got a long handle on the back, which turns and acts like a steering wheel.
I hadn't taken her outside since we picked the thing up, so the logistics of it are still a learning process. Today I tried carrying BB, diaper bag on my back, and pushing Lucy in the bike. That got pretty tiresome by the time we actually got to the center of Cowen Park.
Okay, here comes the brutal blood and pain. I gave her one last push up the hill, onto the grass with the circular concrete sun dial outer perimeter sidewalk. It was a way-too-hard push. Oh God to think back on it makes me cringe. I can still see it clearly.
The bike lunged forward and tipped over and she fell off, right onto the sidewalk, right onto her face. It was bad.
Dada was a bad dad.
I went to get her up and she had these five pretty bad scrapes on the back of her left hand. The poor girl. She was scared and in pain and crying and had dirt all over wounds. I couldn't embrace her properly cause of my zippery leather jacket and I had BB in my left arm, just watching and sucking on her coat, soaking it.
Her cheek had a red bruise on it. Covered more surface area, but was less deep than the hand scrapes. Goddamit. I hurt my daughter during what was supposed to be a trip to make her, specifically, happy.
I got her cleaned up, much to her chagrin, and she started going towards the swings. She was really shaken.
A mom, a doppleganger of my communications class lecturer, showed up with her daughter. She was a talker, and we started talking. I liked her. Then a park worker dude showed up with a leaf blower. Big noise--big scary for Lucy. She was crying and coming over to me and looking generally very uncomfortable.
Then dude pulled out a lawn edger thing that you push around like a lawnmover and makes a hideous noise. It scared her more than the leaf blower. Lucy eventually starts to freak out, and the park trip gets cut short.
Oh well.
The lesson: don't push your daughter so hard on her bike, dumbass, she'll fall off and get hurt and you'll hate yourself.
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