I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
August 22, 2006
>I have always been a klutz.
Move a chair in the room three inches to the right and I’ll crash into it. Leave a shoe or toy on the floor and I’ll trip over it. I typically have at least two or three bruises on my body at all times offering a sore testament to my lack of grace.
The first time I was pregnant, I was clumsier than ever. I tripped and fell so many times that when Good Samaritans came running to help the beached whale get back on her feet, I would wave them off with a grimace and an irritable, “Freakin’ get over it! It’s not like this doesn’t happen all the time!“
What they didn’t know was that I’d gotten good at falling. I could always feel the fall coming and would contort my body in a way that would land me squarely on my (amply padded by the second trimester) butt. Belly intact. No harm done. Stop. Staring. Please.
Anyway, I knew my inner oaf was simply enjoying one last hurrah before being banished forever by the budding Mother in me.
Everyone knows, after all, that Mothers all are infinitely graceful and poised. Television and magazine ads abound with Gentle Mothers, rocking their babies, breastfeeding them and soothing their tears with the lightest, most loving caresses imaginable. Once I gave birth, I knew I would join the ranks of the tender touchers, my clumsiness (like my habit of smoking when drunk), a thing of the distant past.
Ha.
Within an hour or two of giving birth, I realized the klutz in me wasn’t going down without a fight. Because the simple act of nursing my baby was like tussling with a small greased pig from a county fair. When I finally got Baby to latch on, I held her in place with a grit and determination that I hadn’t seen in any of the pages of my breastfeeding manual. Not surprisingly, I preferred the ‘Football Hold’ for the first few weeks of nursing. I’d lovingly shove my newborn under one arm and put on my toughest game face until the painful session was over.
Bathing was another problem. My baby didn’t gurgle and coo as I soothingly lapped water over her tummy. Instead, she screamed as I accidentally splashed a tidal wave of water into her eyes. She wailed with cold when I took her out of the bath only to realize that I’d left the towel on the other side of the house. And she still hasn’t forgiven me, I think, for the multiple hair washings that resulted from my efforts to rid her of cradle cap by covering her scalp (and two inches of dark hair) with Vaseline. Big. Big. Mistake.
I worried sometimes that I was harming her fragile little body in the simple acts of dressing her, feeding her and bathing her. But as someone wisely once told me, little babies are like rubber. Perhaps this was an evolutionary development that enabled their survival in the event that they ended up with a klutzy mama like me.
These days, Baby has lost all hope that I’ll miraculously grow a pair of Gentle Hands like the ones she sees in the TV commercials. Instead, she’s developed coping mechanisms, like pointing out objects I might trip over with a loud “Uh oh!” She’s learned not to panic when I manage to get a dress stuck halfway on and halfway off her body, but instead stands patiently while I work out a plan that involves baby oil and a pair of scissors. And she makes sure a small towel is handy to hold over her eyes when I’m giving her a bath, so that the old soap-in-the-eyes incident won’t happen yet again. It’s kind of sad to see a two-year-old guarding herself against her Mother the Bumbler, but I’m glad she’s making the effort, rather than running in terror every time I stumble into the room.
Let’s just hope that lunkheadedness isn’t hereditary.
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>”…the multiple hair washings that resulted from my efforts to rid her of cradle cap by covering her scalp (and two inches of dark hair) with Vaseline.”I did the same thing! Stupid baby book that told me it was the thing to do… If you haven’t found a better remedy yourself, try Stelaker by Mustela next time around!
>It will get much easier with #2. Not tripping over a misplaced chair, but the rest 😉
>It’s the first time Mom thing. It happens to all of us. The second baby, you will be a pro.
>I’m a bit of a clutz, too. My nickname growing up was, “Grace.” I’d like to say I’ve grown out of most of it, but it still creeps up from time to time.
>I agree… first-time momhood is a bumbling time. You’ll be calmer and more experienced this time around.
>When I was in labor with # 1, I tripped up the steps to our house, and fell off our stoop. THAT was the pinnacle of my pregnancy right there.
>”Mother the Bumbler”*snort*I can SO relate.
>From one klutz to another…I feel ya 🙂
>I hear you. When I was pregnant, I had trouble driving! It was as if I’d somehow forgotten the dimensions of my car as my bodily proportions changed crazily. I actually rear-ended two people at separate times (no damage, but plenty of embarrassment on my part!) because I misjudged the length of my car, which I’d been driving before I ever got pregnant. ??? Very strange. But thinking about your bumping into chairs and such — do they sell protective gear in maternity clothing stores? I’m sensing a marketing opportunity here. ;^) Take care!
>P.S. I used baby oil for cradle cap (and massaged the kiddo’s scalp a bit with a soft baby brush). Not sure if that cleared up the problem or if time was all it needed, but the baby oil did wash out well.
>I’ve watched my daughter walk into walls.Maybe it’s genetic.
>First Pregnancy I dropped my cell phone in a public toilet, I was only 2 mos. pregnant. You can guess what the rest of the pregnancy was like. Grace is NOT my middle name either. Welcome to the club.
>when I was almost seven months preggers, two days before my bday, I was walking down a street in Kerberly and talking to Moe on my cell. I was wearing heels (yeah… bitch slap me right now) and I fell! hit the belly on the side as I contorted mid air. smacked my head into the pavement. lucky for me Nutter butter was fine. my head, for my birthday, was black and blue though. lol
>IT was SO MUCH EASIER practicing with those baby-size dolls in our newborn class – when the real baby came I was sure I was going to drop, blind, and maim him (not to mention pulling a leg off) because he wasn’t stiff (and didn’t STAY still) like the doll!”Shove my newborn under one arm” – hee! Been there!
>ha! Funny.I remember once dressing baby and all of a sudden he started screaming. I couldn’t figure out why. Only to discover one of his fingers was bent back in his sleeve. I nearly vomitted it looked so bad. But once his bendy tubby digit was freed he was happy as larry.
>oh dear.you just described what i’m sure motherhood will look like for me.joy. 😉
>OMG, I am the BIGGEST Klutz in the world. You cannot take my title.Imagine how terrified I was the moment I had my first kid, and the doctor THREW her up onto my stomach, making me catch her. Um…Klutz + slippery, gooey child= impending disaster.Luckily, I managed to catch. For once.
>I once broke my foot tripping over a brick that I had knwon was in our garden for the past 13 years. Yet, I still tripped right over it. I am currently nursing my right hip thanks to stupid algebra.Hurricane sighs when he sees me coming. Can’t really blame him since he nearly went crashing over the side of my bed at the ripe old age of 7 hours while I was trying to nurse him. I come with a warning label.
>The klutziness doesn’t end..for me anyway. I recently put Oil of Olay onto my toothbrush!
>Oh my god, you are so not alone!Carrie
>At least you can laugh about it, no?
>ROFL…oh man can I ever relate. I have calluses on my shins and my toes have developed a brain of thier own (each) so they can curl away from collisions with anything in my path on thier own – they don’t trust me to do it.Oh and with number two…I slipped on a SHADOW and fell down to two or three steps (sliding on my “bumper-butt”). NOTHING is as graceful as a really BIG woman 3 days before her delivery date sliding feet first down a set of stairs on her back…
>12 years of ballet paid off for me. I would only bump into walls in narrow spaces. Otherwise, as long as there was plenty of space for me to wobble, I was fine.
>I was clumsy as a pregnant woman, but I prefer to think of myself ensconsed in a perpetual state of inner bliss in which I was focused on the baby growing inside of me. Oh yeah..and I wasn’t looking at where I was going.
>My oldest daughter had the WORST cradle cap ever. And also, it is a freakin’ miracle I’ve made it to 37 years of age without breaking a bone. I’ve actually hit myself in the head with our back door.
>Placenta brain, doll! PS. I could have swore your header girl was holding a cup o’joe. Is it my placenta brain? Or did you change it since your prego?
>There were so many times I thought I was going to break the baby or that I was doing something wrong (i.e. not EXACTLY the way my 5027 baby books told me to do it) and I would scar her for life. Well, 2 1/2 years later, she is still alive and well so I must be doing something right. Right?
>I’m still laughing about your “inner oaf”. I knew it was bad for me when my dogs would move out of the way when I was coming. So when pregnancy hit, I counted myself lucky that I only fell on the stairs twice and every time I tripped, I was able to fall on something soft or catch myself. Hate to tell ya, Klutzy is hereditary. My son is like John Madden in a tutu. Of course, he’s only 2. I’m hoping he’ll grow out of it. I’m just hoping he didn’t get my common sense gene. Or lack thereof.
>I’m a klutz too, and I think I passed that gene on to my youngest son. He trips over his own feet all the time. Poor kid.
>Another great thing for cradle “crap” (I had it, so my mom passed this on when Jack got it) is to simply rub in baby oil after the bath and comb the hair. It works great, and he liked the sensation since we did it at the same time we applied New Baby Smell (what I call the pink baby lotion)
>Nope, Omamamia, she’s always been holding a can of cleaner. A coffee cup would be good, though… Or maybe a bottle of vodka.
>Coping mechanisms at 2? That’s really sad, uh I mean hilarious, wait…sweet? :)I’m sure even the graceful mothers have many more “moments” than they’d ever admit. 🙂
>”baby oil and scissors”Uncontrollable snickering over here at that one.
>I’m afraid it is hereditary – all the women in my family are complete clutzes. I found my mom wearing a helmet once and I was afraid her doctor had suggested it – whew it was just my kid putting it on her head. I seem to have passed it on to my sons. One has matching shin bruises to his mommy, the other can’t walk across a room without a dramatic trip or fall onto his head. At least they are way more athletic to me.