Worst. Mother. Ever.
When I take the lowercase anywhere in the car and need to get something out after I've gotten him out of his seat, I always tell him to stand with both hands touching the car. It keeps him where I need him to be and away from moving cars.
It's been a perfect system. Until last night.
Last night, in our own driveway, we were unloading the car while he wandered around. We pulled his new picnic table out of the back and started toward the back yard to unpack it. The lowercase started to follow. I looked to be sure it was clear and SLAMMED the hatch of our small SUV/crossover type car. And then came the scream.
It seriously felt like slow motion when I know it was no more than 5 seconds. I saw my son's right hand INSIDE the closed door. I opened the door, Mr. W swooped the lowercase up in his arms while I ran inside for an ice pack. We called a nurse friend to see if she thought he would need an X-ray -- his hand was in the normal position but extremely red and swollen. She suggested we have him examined at the Urgent Care facility that is just a couple of blocks away. So within about 5 minutes of the accident, we were in the exam room. They thought it looked fine, and by that point he was giggling and playing with a basket of stickers. Still, they thought we should have an X-ray at the hospital just to be sure that there was no real damage that anyone was missing.
Which is why at 10:00 last night I was sitting with the radiologist listening to the fact that, yes, my son was indeed fine with no broken bones. As we carried him back to the car, he looked at me and said "Mommy you slammed the car door on my hand." It was all I could do not to cry or throw up.
When we got home, the lowercase kept asking me why I looked sad. I told him that I was scared. "You were scared of the lady?" "No, baby, I was scared you were hurt. I was worried about you." "And I was worried about YOU, Mommy."