Dearest Wee One,
Every Monday I post a "Monday Memory" on my other blog. Usually they are family stories or stories of your diva as a child. This week I posted a story about your momma. Your Momma was the most wonderful baby ever born (or at least we thought so ). We were instantly captivated by her. She was our greatest accomplishment and we watched her with breathless anticipation. Your Poppa and I had been a small part of helping God create a living breathing miracle.
Like most nervous new parents we let her sleep in a bassinet right next to our bed for fear we might not hear her in the middle of the night! At first she would only squeak a little as she would wake for a feeding. As she grew bigger and stronger so did her cries. Soon we were able to distinguish the hungry "feed me cries" from the the "I need to be changed cries".
As our confidence grew, so did she. Soon she had a lusty mad cry that signaled " You'd better take care of me NOW or else!" She was very good at training us to meet her needs. For the most part she was an easy baby to raise and we complimented each other for our extraordinary "parenting" ability.
So, we were not prepared for our child's noiseless cry. We were in a large district church conference and our 8 month old creeper was in the nursery with lots of other preachers kids. The nursery was small and there were lots of babies. The main assembly had just gotten out and mother's were on their way to pick up their offspring.
As I entered the nursery I noticed that your momma was playing on the floor. I also noticed that her mouth was wide open in terror, tears were pouring out of her eyes and yet there was no noise coming out of her mouth. Her face was beet red, and her eyes were bulging.
I also noticed that there was another mom gathering her child's diaper bag and standing on my baby's hand.
My maternal instinct took over and faster than a charging NFL linesmen I pushed the offending mother off your momma's hand ( and nearly through the opposite wall.). I grabbed my noiselessly screaming baby and blew in her face. It caused her to catch her breath and then the loudest, most ear-splitting noise erupted from her that caused everyone (even the very angry offending mom) to stop dead in their tracks and pay attention to what had just occurred.
Your Momma began wailing and so did I. (Both of us were inconsolable.) Fortunately another mother had also viewed the incident and was explaining the situation to the astonished nursery attendant , the offending mother and to your Poppa who was wondering why his mild mannered wife had become a raving charging lunatic.
Needless to say that was the last time your momma was in that nursery. Nothing was broken or bruised (including the other mother) but I felt like the world's worst mom.
Moms and Divas hate to see their children hurt, or scared. It was a horrible experience for both of us that day.
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