parental stupidity at it's best!

last night i put the monk to bed and he cried for a few minutes like he always does before going to sleep and then quieted down. i thought everything was all dandy until 20 minutes later when i heard him screaming his little head off. i go into his room (THANK GOD), lift him out of his crib, and see that the sheets are covered in some liquid that cannot possibly be drool because there is far too much of it. just as i go to slide my hand over it (because apparently standing in the dark and running your hand over a strange substance is the best way to assess a situation rather than turning on a light and LOOKING at it), jacob leans back and projectile vomits all over me, 3 times. instead of being calm, turning the light on, and checking things out, i start to cry, scream for phil and proceed to wonder if my baby is dying and what is wrong and why is he puking and holy shit, that stinks! so phil comes in and takes the baby while i peel my lovely vomit (and i do mean vomit) soaked shirt off. as i'm in the bathroom, he brings a tag to me - a tag that came off of the carter's monkey i had hanging on the outside of his crib bar which earlier that day he figured out how to pull into the crib and i thought was the cutest thing ever when i found him chewing on it's leg after a nap. yes, i am now accepting awards for Mother of the Year. i am sure this will seem funny in a few years, not taking the tag off the damn monkey, but last night it was far from funny. especially since when we couldn't find the rest of the tag, we had to, or i should say, PHIL had to, stick his finger down his throat and get him to throw the rest of it up. my poor, poor son.

AND! last weekend we came home from somewhere - probably fucking wally world because i spend every godforsaken day there - and phil set the monk on the couch while i set my purse down on the counter. as soon as i realized he did that i ran to the couch as fast as i could just in time to see him FLIP off the couch and land in between the couch and coffee table nearly hitting his head on the table. it's one thing to know your baby has fallen, it is another thing entirely to witness it and not be able to do anything about it!!! needless to say, he survived, and had an itty bitty bruise on his leg the next day, but seriously? he is only 6 months old. i cannot imagine what else may be in store for this poor child. i am going to need therapy.