So, all you moms out there reading this: You know you've made a mistake. You know your baby has cried at your hands. You know, that you can't judge me for what I'm about to tell you. If you do, you are judged by me. Because, right now, I'm not judging you. Let's be fair about this whole being a mom thing, deal?
The P90X program that my husband has started has many recipes that create some surprisingly delicious dishes. This night one week ago, I was making Shrimp Pasta Pomodoro. It called for some pretty yummy ingredients- fresh garlic, and fresh basil. I decided to make it even yummier and throw some onions in the mix. You sautee the garlic and onion and tomato in some olive oil, add some chicken broth and spices, and toss in the cooked penne whole wheat pasta. You toss in some shrimps and then add the fresh basil and serve. It's great, really.
I got done chopping all of the ingredients and got everything ready for sauteeing when my son decided to get all fussy on me. Daddy was learning at the time, so it was all me. I washed up really good, as the last thing I sliced was the fresh herb, which can be surprisingly spicy when eaten alone. It was basil. I dried off my hands and went to check on the boy, who'd been swinging patiently in his snugabunny. I saw that he'd been drooling quite excessively, and thought that perhaps I could feel a little spikey spike from his coming tooth(s). I felt around the front of his lower gums, and as he always does, he licked my fingers. Unintentionally, of course, he stuck his tongue where my fingers were and tried to work these foreign objects out of his mouth. But, pretty suddenly, his content effort went to a painful, and most horrible wail. It was a wail I'd only heard once before- but luckily, I heard it when my four-time-mother-of-four-boys aunt was with me. Not so luckily, I knew it was because he was in pain. What did I do? What was wrong?? WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?!?!
I sat in shock for a moment not knowing what I'd done to make my son feel such anguish... until I realized. I just chopped onion. I just chopped garlic. I JUST CHOPPED BASIL. And I washed my hands, but, Oh God- THE OILS! The oils don't wash off right away! OH my word!
Quick, what do I do? What soothes a burning tongue? MILK! It's got to be milk. Ok, Brianna, just make a bottle. Try not to freak out over this stifled-shortenedofbreath-serious cry and get some freaking milk! OK, bottle is made. Grab baby. Baby grabbed. Oh gosh. Don't drop this squirming, kicking, thrashing baby. Sit down, feed bottle. Eat the bottle dangit! Ah, ok. He's drinking... he's still whining... he stopped whining. He's fine. Oh good gravy, he's fine.
Wait, what if he's allergic? Can he be allergic to onions? Is there such a thing? Is there a garlic allergy? What about a basil allergy? I just rinsed off some shrimp. Is it the shrimp? WHAT AM I GONNA DO? Ok, I'll just hold him for the next several hours and watch for- oh my gosh, what's that red spot on his neck? Is that a rash? Is that a hive? What do hives look like? Does it itch? Should I scratch it and see what he does? Should I look it up online?
SHUT. UP. Just shut up Brianna Brain. Sit there, feed your son. He's fine. He's fine. OK. He's fine.
But really, what is that red spot? Oh, duh. He scratched himself. Look more closely next time, dufus.
As I'm sitting there with all of these crazy thoughts going through my head, I failed to see the tears that welled up in my baby boy's eyes. After I calmed and after he calmed, the tears began to seep out of the outer corner of his eyes. I realized that my baby, whom I had just subjected to a horrible burning sensation on his sensitive little tongue, cried his tears for the first. Time. Ever. That day. September 19th, 2011. I won't forget. His daddy was at school. We were at home. Cotton was snoozin' in her little house. And my boy cried his first set of tears and it was all. my. fault.
But you know what?
At least it wasn't a jalepeno.
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