Because he’s the man. But no. I was the first person to drop the baby.
I should have known that it would be me, since I’m the one with horrible balance and even worse coordination, and the hubby has the balance of a gold medalist curler. But I just thought he’d have to choose one day between saving the iPad and saving the baby, and, well… But nope.
Thankfully, she was in her car seat. I tripped over a curb on the way to my new moms’ group (of course!), and I went down. My arm was hooked under the car seat handle, so she kind of came down on top of me. I think the car seat landed half on my leg or foot and half on the ground, on its side. She grunted a little until I turned her right side up again, then she smiled. She wasn’t hurt. But I was right across the street from the hospital, so I almost walked to the emergency room, just in case. Then I decided that since she wasn’t crying, she was okay. Chicco makes a pretty good car seat, I guess.
I’m fine, too. And really glad that I tripped *out* of the street instead of into it. Also glad that my first instinct was to try to elevate her as much as possible so she wouldn’t hit the ground hard.
But man, I’m bummed I dropped her before Frank did, because now he’ll always have that. “You dropped the baby! I’m the best parent ever!” Oh well. I guess I’ll always have this: “You made the baby pee in her own face! I’m the best parent ever!”