Been there, done that

I read a friend’s blog post about her 1-year-old son’s curiosity, and I had to laugh. Apparently, her son got into something he wasn’t supposed to get into (which they do like it’s their job!), she had to call poison control. And that led me to a sort of been-there-done-that feeling.

When Biscuit was still a wee tiny thing and still sleeping in our bedroom in a playpen, he kept getting these mysterious mosquito bites on his face and head. We couldn’t for the life of us figure out A. how the suckers were getting into the house, and 2. why they were targeting our sweet little baby.

We never saw them flying or heard them buzzing during waking hours. It was like the mosquitoes were lying in wait until we went to sleep so they could do their worst on our son’s head!

We tried all manner of ridiculous things to keep them away, including pinning dryer sheets to the corners of the playpen. I know it sounds strange, but the bites stopped after we did that. So even though it looked odd, I left the dryer sheets where they were. Until …

We have a ceiling fan in our bedroom that we keep on low speed all the time during the summer. And as an added bonus, I read a study that ceiling fans can help prevent SIDs. I’m not how true that one is, but hey, the fan was on anyway, so I figured it was a good thing.

Anyway, the fan caused the dryer sheets to waft in the wind, and one day, when Biscuit woke up from his nap and sat up, one of the sheets flipped over to the inside of the playpen, right into his little grasp. I heard him cooing on the monitor, so I headed from the living room to the bedroom to get him. When I turned the corner to go into the bedroom, I saw him with a dryer sheet hanging out of his mouth, and he had this huge grin on his face.

“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” I yelled. Which, of course, made him cry. I yanked the dryer sheet out of his mouth and called my Mama.

And let me just pose this question right here and right now … How do women who don’t have mamas do when they have babies?!? Who do they call in panic situations?

Anyway, Mama suggested I call poison control just to be sure. I dialed the number, got a nice lady on the other end and proceeded to tell her what happened. She said Biscuit would be perfectly fine. And even though he had probably only been sucking on the sheet for a few seconds, she suggested I get him to eat and drink, so the soap in the dryer sheets wouldn’t upset his stomach.

The lady took my name, address and phone number. She took Biscuit’s name, age, weight and some other information. I know it’s protocol, but it truly made me feel like a horrible mother, and that the incident was being recorded on my Permanent Record.

Then I got off the phone and cried and cried and cried.

It’s amazing to me how you put so much effort into trying to keep your kids safe and within a few seconds, they can do something so crazy or weird or dangerous that it endangers their lives.

The friend that made me remember this incident will probably read this blog post, and I hope it makes her feel better. And while I’m at it, maybe I should just forward this to all my girlfriends who are pregnant or hoping to get that way in the future.