Friday 28 August 2015

The Arrowroot

I gave my son Frankie an arrowroot biscuit a couple of days ago, and out of desperation to keep him happy, I let him crawl around on the floor while he ate it - something I normally wouldn't allow, but you know how it is. Sometimes we will sell our souls for just a few minutes of peace and quiet. So, I crossed over to the dark side, and let him be a floor-fed baby for a little while as I went about my business.

We were in a group setting, so there were a few other bubs and mums in the room, some younger, some older, each doing whatever it was they needed to do to keep themselves happy. I was busy dealing with a work matter, so I admit, I took my four eyes off Frankie for a moment...or two...or five.
When I returned to the room, there were no other parents around but the babies were still there, doing their thing. I looked immediately for my child who I quickly spotted sitting rather close to a baby bouncer - containing a baby that was being bounced rather vigorously by - you guessed it - yours truly, Frankie Moore. My heart leapt out of my chest with panic, that poor baby was going to get shaken baby syndrome if my child didn't stop! I rushed over and dragged my nine-monther over to me by the legs, hearing him giggle guiltily as I did so.
That's when I noticed it. The biscuit hanging out of the little baby's mouth. The little baby who was too small to be eating biscuits. The little baby who was sucking on that biscuit like a starving newborn to the nipple.

The little baby thought Christmas had come early, and Frankie, after seeing my face, thought his end days were coming sooner than planned. I leapt towards the baby and wrenched the offending arrowroot out of his mouth. The little baby proceeded to howl in protest. Nooooo, I thought. Baby, shush! You will attract your mummy and she will know. She will know what a bad and inattentive parent I am. For the love of God, be quiet. I began rocking my foot viciously on the bouncer, with rushed and the most un-soothing sounds you can imagine coming out of my mouth. It was my last ditch effort to shoosh him before his mother heard.

Too late. In she came, wondering what all the fuss was about. She looked down and saw immediately what had happened. I edged towards Frankie my maternal protective instincts kicking in. If he was going down, I was going down with him.

The mother looked over at us and back towards her baby and declared 'is Frankie sharing your biscuit with you? What a generous little boy'.

What?! When did this situation turn in our favour?
Hang on, who cares. She wasn't mad that we may have potentially put the life of her child at risk. She didn't mind at all, she laughed it off and thought it was funny! Can you imagine?! Funny!
I realized I was holding my breath, and quickly (and a little too loudly) exhaled.
I scooped up Frankie and our arrowroot crumbs, smiled at the forgiving mum who seemed to understand my fear, and edged out of the room.
I think we will stop with the arrowroots....Any biscuit suggestions?
Love Tara

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