Motherhood FAIL of the Week: Phone Home

As part of my ongoing effort to save money, we do not have a home telephone.  This happens to drive my Mother-in-Law insane, but seeing as it's the 21st century and that it costs almost $50 a month for a landline, I'm fine with this decision.  The only drawback is that I have to keep my cell phone within arms reach at all times, in case the Hubs or someone even more important tries to reach me.  While this may sound simple enough in theory, trying to carry a small, wiggling child and a fragile piece of technology at the same time often requires contortion skills equal to those of a Cirque de Soleil performer.  Usually I wear pants with a handy rear pocket perfect for holding my phone, but on the days when I find myself wearing my pajamas until three or four in the afternoon, I don't have a good spot to stash my trusty iPhone.  This usually results in me trying to carry the Muffin Man, a bottle, some sort of toy and my phone all at the same time.  I've gotten pretty good at this juggling act over the last eight months; it's amazing how many different items a determined Mother can carry at once.  Heck, some days I think I may have missed my calling as a sherpa.

I've discovered that one of the hardest things to do each day (aside from finding time to shower) is trying to get my diaper bag packed up and get the Muffin Man and I out the door.  I'm sure a more organized, better prepared Mother would get everything ready while her son was napping, but I have to use that time for more important activities like checking People.com and adding pictures of baked goods to my Pinterest boards.  As a result of my refusal to plan ahead, I inevitably find myself running up and down the stairs with Noah in one arm and diapers and wipes and toys and bottles and changes of clothes in the other.  And, of course, my trusty friend Mr. iPhone balanced precariously on top of the pile of baby gear.  This past Monday I had the brilliant idea to hold my cell phone in my mouth while I was getting us ready to go.  While this may sound like an excellent solution in theory, it turns out that iPhones are rather slippery and not really designed to be carried by the scruff of the neck like a four-day-old kitten.  Never one to be deterred by reality (case in point: my acting career) I chomped down on my phone, grabbed my kid and all the accoutrements necessary for one hour away from our home, and went on my way.  As I was buckling Noah into the carseat, the slick outer shell of my phone got the better of me, slipped out of my toothy hold, and fell right smack onto my son's forehead before hitting the ground.  

Just in case you have been living with the Bedoins for the last several years and aren't versed in the weight of an iPhone, I assure you these hand-held computers are not light.  Take into account that I was standing several feet above my child, so calculating for velocity, the thing probably clocked my kid's head at a speed of... well, I don't know.  I suck at math, but let's just assume it was a fast speed and that it hurt really badly.  Needless to say Noah started screaming, his forehead began to swell up to three times its normal size, and my phone had a shattered screen.

Thankfully, Noah's physical injuries were easily treated with a booboo bear and his blankie.  His psychological injuries haven't made an appearance yet, but I keep expecting him to start screaming hysterically every time he sees the instrument of his torture.  My iPhone, on the other hand, requires more than a penguin-shaped ice pack to return to its former glory.  Good thing I saved all that money by not having a landline; it's going to be super useful to pay for the cost of replacing my phone screen.