confession.

Olly,

There is a little joke that adults sometimes say to one another, when someone is not getting "it" or acting a little "off." We might say to this someone, "Were you dropped on your head as a child?" (Can you guess where I'm going with this one, guys?)

Olly, I let you fall off the couch today.

It was the worst moment of my life. This is no hyperbole.

First of all, the sound was the absolute most disgusting noise I have ever heard, not because it was a splat, or bones breaking, or anything like that, but because I instantly knew exactly what it was. You screamed this horrible heartbreaking scream, and it sounded like "Why? Why would you do this to me?"

I was crying and holding you very close to me and cursing myself for turning my back for one second. (I had gotten up to turn on a nearby light.) I was crying because you sounded so betrayed. I am the one who has been trusted with your care while you are on Earth. I was crying because I am supposed to keep you safe. No one but me (and gravity) could be held responsible. I am so relieved and so overwhelmingly thankful that you are okay. Every peep you make or peep you don't make I had myself convinced were signs of your concussion, but you seem to have escaped unscathed.

It reminds me that some mistakes can be undone, lesson learned, the hard way or otherwise, while others cannot. This is the closest that I would like my calls, thank you. Prepare to be strapped to my body for the remaining waking moments of your childhood, little boy.

I love you very much, my precious cargo, even though I sometimes handle you with less care than you deserve.

Love, your mama.