The Mummy Accident Form

Our kids come home with an accident form for the slightest scrape, but what about us? The injuries I’ve sustained while mumming would fill a Lever Arch file. But who do I run to for a George Clooney plaster and a hug? No kindly nurse’s bosom for me, just a silent tear and another entry in my dusty Accident Archives.

Occupational Hazard

Being a mum is hard. Not only do you have to bear and raise children, you have to bite your lip when you whack your shin running to the rescue. You have to grin and bear it when you get kicked in the teeth by a child on a swing. In short, you have to suppress all physical sensation and Keep Mumming On. I am constantly covered in unexplained bruises that I didn’t even notice incurring. The other day it wasn’t till I went to bed and saw the red, throbbing wield on my hand that I realised that I had actually burnt myself quite badly when getting the homebaked bread chips out at teatime. But the pain didn’t register till later. 
If you need pain relief, forget codeine, try kids.

My Top Three Mummy Accidents (And I Don’t Mean My Kids)

That burn is nowt compared to my top three child-related injuries – fittingly, one per child. 

Child #1 The “Car Boot Slammed on the Head” Accident

Now, I can’t wholly blame this on my dearest eldest boy. It was my hand that slammed the car boot – yes! on my own head! But he drove me to it, begads! He’d made me so angry on the way to the soft play that I had to slam a door to vent my feelings. I know, childish huh? Well, I think the picture testifies that I learned my lesson there. Stand well to the side when closing the boot in a tight parking situation.

Child#2 The Cracked Coccyx

Again, not his fault at all. We were on holiday. I was standing by the pool holding him, aged six months. I tried to enter the water and slipped, and, since I couldn’t just throw him in the air to put my hands down, I fell with all my post-baby weight onto my coccyx. Four years on, I still can’t sit down. But hey – mums never sit down anyway, so it doesn’t matter a jot! (I didn’t include a picture of this for the obvious reason that it would basically be a shot of my behind, and this is a family show.)

Child#3 The Fractured Funny Bone

Ooh this one still stings! It was only four months ago. I was in a soft play (there’s a theme here!), lying on my tummy smiling at my crawling baby’s antics, when, quick as a knife, he whacked out my arm from under me, causing my elbow to crack down on to the Hard Spot (every soft play has one, believe me). Oh my Lord, it hurt – and I’ve had three labours. Just look at this bruise (and try not to snigger cos it looks like a weird boob).

Self-Inflicted, Self-Diagnosed and Self-Medicated

Of course, you could argue that none of these injuries was caused by the accused child, but was self-inflicted. Which is fair, and obviously I would never blame my kids for anything (except for stealing my Freddo Frogs. They DO do that.) And have I been to the doctor about any of these? Of course not – I haven’t got time and self-diagnosis is much more fun! Well, actually I did go to the doc about my coccyx as I was in pain at work, and she said the only thing they could do was poke something up my back passage and have a wiggle around. I will say no more. And I obviously haven’t broken my funny bone – why, look how terribly witty my blog is! It does hurt to bend my elbow, though. The only thing for it is to self-medicate. There’s a cure for all woes. Booze.

Related posts:

Knee-High Ninjas: How Babies Get You Where It Hurts – where I reflect on such baby ninja moves as The Boob BIte, The Thigh Roll, The Gum Hook and The Pupil Poke.

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