We avoided peanut butter for her until she was two years old. Then she didn't seem to like it. She got to where she liked saying she was allergic to anything she didn't like. She eventually did like peanut butter, but has never been a very big fan of it. She did, at least, outgrow her allergy!
Fast forward ten years. While pregnant with Sasha, I avoided eating excessive amounts of peanut butter with a little bit of paranoia. At one of her check-ups I asked the doctor what he thought of peanut butter and as he started to give us approval to introduce it, I told him of my history. He decided we should wait until Sasha turns two. I suspected as much. I know peanuts are a high allergy food. I get it.
Mind you, peanut butter is a staple food in our household. My husband loves peanut butter. My default lunch if I have nothing else ready is PB&J. I like peanut butter on waffles. We buy Little Debbie snacks with peanut butter in them. Now we're doing child led weaning which means sharing what you eat with your child. Uh oh. I always try to have something to offer to her when we're eating peanut butter. She is 15½ months old now.
I've been keeping refrigerated rolls of cookie dough in the house lately. I have been known to sneak a couple of bites of dough. If I can eat it, so can my child. I remember when I was a kid saying that when I was a mother, I'd let my kids eat dough and batter. Yes, I see the warnings. I think some of the crap I eat may be why my stomach can survive things that might make my husband ill. Anyway, there I am one evening last week, sneaking a couple of bites of peanut butter cookie dough. I slip Sasha a little nibble. It isn't until I start to give her a second nibble that it hits me. Oh shit. That has peanut butter in it. Oops!
I know right away that I'll confess my misdeed to my husband... it is just a question of when. This is one thing I SO appreciate about my relationship with my husband, but I'll come back to that. I think I waited until the next day. This gave me the chance to see that our child wasn't going to die or have some other bad reaction. If I had done it in the morning on a work day, I am certain I would have told him sooner, so he could watch for any reactions himself. I was with her, though, so I didn't feel as pressed to tell on myself. When I did rat myself out, I did so with nervous laughter. As forgiving as he is, I knew I screwed up. He did razz me a bit about it, but he wasn't mad at me at all. I definitely had a bad mommy moment there, though.
Alright, so that (in hind-site, anyway!) was a pretty minor infraction. However... Shortly after bringing Sasha home from the hospital, possibly the day we brought her home, I fell fast asleep on my chaise lounge chair. It is where I had been sleeping every night because I couldn't sleep anywhere else! It was the middle of the day and I had our swaddled newborn on my chest. I had assured Elmo that I knew what I was doing and we would be fine.
As you can see in the photo below, a chaise lounge chair doesn't have any sides (at least ours didn't). I was so exhausted from the previous couple of days that I apparently passed out pretty hard. Sasha slept peacefully on my chest. Elmo saw from the next room that she started to wiggle. He thought perhaps he should come get her off of me. And then... she fell off of me! Thats right, my brand new beautiful baby girl fell off of me. Not only that, she fell to my right where you would have found a brick hearth! There were some other things there and she was well swaddled. She was fine. However, I found myself wondering if this one incident might be the undoing of my relationship with my new husband. I felt awful. I did sense some distrust for a few weeks after that, but we grew past it.
Up until now, I have never told anyone about this. I was absolutely horrified. I take great pride in my parenting choices and abilities. But no one is perfect. I so look up to Hobo Mama and even she has just posted about being imperfect. She even links to some other moms that have posted on the topic recently. It must be the season because I had been stewing up this post since the peanut butter incident last week.
When we work so hard at making our decisions and following through on them, it can be hard to admit to others that we falter, too. No one is perfect. I think that one mishap in Sasha's first days helped me to be more forgiving when Daddy faltered, too. Sasha is his first baby he has cared for full time. He has confessed to me his failings openly. How could I be anything less than forgiving of him? I've had to forgive myself, too, which can be even harder. He sets a fine example for me, though.
We're both doing the best we can. Judging by our daughter, I'd say we're doing pretty well.