Published: October 09, 2008 05:52 pm         

Guilt of burning daughter’s face hurts worse than injury

Commentary By Danielle Pelkey

The North Jefferson News



Where is it? Where is my award for being the best mom ever?

I have lost any credentials that I ever had toward being a good mom after last week. No, I didn’t lose my child on a busy subway or leave her for hours at the house while running to the store. I didn’t do anything of the sort. I simply tried to fry an apple pie. That’s right, I was cooking and instantly turned into the worst mom ever.

We had a friend of ours over to the house last week and I offered to fry up an apple pie for him to eat before he went home. He said he would like one, so I asked Todd to keep Raygan (my 1-year-old daughter) in the living room with him while I fried. I have always heard that frying with a baby in the kitchen is a bad idea, and I can see why.

I had the pie just a sizzlin’ when I decided it was time to flip it over. Instead of doing the smart thing and using some tongs that were right next to the pan, I reached for the spatula. When I started to flip the pie I noticed that it was burning. I don’t know why this revelation made me go completely brain dead and flip the pie as quickly as possible (as if this would make it quit burning). When I flipped it, my hand felt like it was on fire. I had flung grease all over my hand and arm. When I wanted to cry the loudest, I heard this little bitty scream come from the side of the kitchen. I looked down to find my innocent little girl screaming the most pitiful cry you have ever heard and holding her eye.

I just knew I had blinded my daughter and scarred her face for life. I yanked her up without ever giving thought to myself or anything else for that matter. I ran her into the living room where her daddy was talking on the phone. I was screaming, “Check out her face, make sure she can see.” I knew in my state of mind I would never have been able to make a proper assessment of the situation.

Sure enough, I had burned her face with grease. We were so happy to find that it was just two little spots, one right above her eye and one right below it.

She calmed down much sooner than I did. Once I got over the overwhelming feeling of guilt, I remembered that my hand had many more scorching hot spots than her face did. I spent the rest of the night trying to convince myself and everyone around me that I wasn’t the worst mom in the world.

Todd assured me that things like this would happen. I know they will, but why did it happen to me? I could have been all mad if this had happened with her dad or with the baby sitter, but it was my own fault.

Of course, when I went to church all of my friends were asking why I hated my daughter and made her look like “The Phantom of the Opera.” The truth is, that she is doing fine.

Her face has already healed up and she has gotten all of the pity that she could stand. I, on the other hand, have a scarred up hand and a guilt that will not soon go away.