So this morning I popped Lo-Lo on her front, on her play-mat, safely, with a few toys and I went for a shower. It was a short shower, it always is. But you do worry. You figure it’s this moment that you step away from them, out of sight that they will somehow, that day figure out how to crawl. They will somehow figure out how to roll and will roll themselves to the shower where of course you will step on them. They will find a way to stuff horsey into their mouth in one go and choke. All these things flit into your mind, you can’t help it. When you’re the carer at that moment, you worry when you don’t know what they are up to.
So I get out of the shower and I can hear crying. But not the type that is a bit of a moan, a grumble, an ‘I can’t quite reach my toy’ cry. No, this was full on war crying, the ‘something’s really not right here’ crying. I dry myself quick as a flash. In my mind I run through all the things she might have done and I’m coming up blank… which is another reason I didn’t run straight in. Plus, as someone said, if they’re crying – they’re still alive. Cruel I know, but if you run every single time they whimper, you won’t have a life and… neither will they. Anyway, I come into the living room and guess what? There was absolutely no drama, think she was just done with laying on her tummy.
Moral of this story? Just put them in a position they are happier in for longer if you want to enjoy your shower 😉