Failed. Again.

Don't ever think that there will be a shortage of stories about how I failed as a mother. Okay? Okay. This week it started in the bathtub...

Michael gets trapped in the bathtub whenever I'm getting ready. Throw in a fluffy blanket and all the stuffed animals. Ta-dah. Captured baby in what he thinks is a really big bowl full of toys. Mom win.

Recently he's become a lot more mobile. He's squirrel-y and monkey-ish in zoo terms. He. Is. Busy. Busy in this case meant grabbing mom's razor off the side of the tub (duh, mom!) and cutting all his baby fingers. None of the cuts were deep enough for him to even cry, but one in particular wouldn't stop bleeding. Like, do we have arteries in our fingers? Cause I'm pretty sure he nicked one of those. 

I put a tiny little band-aid on his tiny little finger. Sucked it right off. Again, bleeding artery. Everywhere. So I got the medical tape and distracted him with the container of wipes while I wrapped his tiny little phalange no less than 7 times. Literally. Well, if we're actually being literal it was probably more like 12. It totally worked.

Later that night at dinner he sat *quietly* (it wasn't really all that quiet, but he was a good boy despite all the activity) beside me in his highchair as I fed him pieces of sweet potato. We were having a great time until the medical tape was suddenly missing. I couldn't find it anywhere. It was gone.

Well, I found it exactly 24 hours later. All 12 wraps worth. And if you want the honest to goodness truth, I bet it was more like 19 wraps. Or however much it takes to fill up a diaper with 18 inches of medical tape...