I’m such a rookie.

Every time I think I’ve got this kid thing sussed, something happens to ensure I am still the world’s biggest beginner in the parenthood stakes. Last week was an absolute cracker in terms of events I would much rather forget, to say nothing of the people who witnessed me doing them.

Firstly, I was in one of Newtown’s coolest gift stores, Pentimento, and completely absorbed in their gift book collection at the front. I have still only taken Charlie Bear out in his pram a handful of times, and when I wheeled him in, he was asleep, giving me a chance to peruse the books without rushing. But then one of the girls said, ‘Excuse me, but is that yours…?’ and pointed to a pram halfway down the aisle in which a baby inside was going absolutely apeshit.

I had heard a baby crying, but my sleep-deprived brain had clearly just assumed it belonged to someone else. “Oh my god!” I screeched, flustered and racing over to quickly scoop Charlie out of the pram and into a cuddle, “that’s my baby! I was so in my own little world I actually forgot I had a baby for a minute!”

Then, horrified at myself that I’d said that out loud, I went bright red and focussed on jiggling Charlie who seemed very happy now his mother had remembered she was his mother. (The kid is easily pleased.)

Luckily, the women behind the counter could see the funny side and they all cracked up. I said, apologetically, “He’s only six weeks old, I’m still kind of getting the hang of having a baby around my person…”

They were still laughing when I stashed him back in the pram and slunk out of there to go and relive my idiocy somewhere away from people.

My second rookie mistake was taking him to the park in 35 degree heat and thinking we’d be okay because there was a breeze. He absolutely cracked it and we all ended up in the pub. Where there was air-conditioning and beer. Said my friend Sue: “When you said you were taking him to the park in this heat, I didn’t want to say anything, but…”

Like I said, rookie.

Third mistake? Not carrying the pram’s rain cover with me at all times. I will never make that mistake again after Mr Chick and I were caught with Charlie in the pram, in just a nappy, in a massive electrical thunderstorm. Worse, we were stuck on a street with no shelter and about 10 minutes run from home.

The pram got drenched and water started to plop inside and we just thought it would be best to run, only to get completely, utterly drenched and screeching whenever lightning hit, seemingly right near us. Pretty much any parent’s worst nightmare, no? But at some point I looked down at him in the pram, tucked up with just a towel around him, and he was smiling. I realised he probably thought the rain and thunder was nothing more than the rain app he’s been listening to while going to sleep for the last couple of months, and so he wasn’t scared. If anything, he was just intrigued about how his parents had gone from looking quite normal to complete drowned rats in the space of 30 seconds.

We got home and I bundled him up in a warm towel. I propped him up on a pillow while I undressed and changed into dry clothes and he just gave me the biggest grin ever. He couldn’t stop smiling. Nice to know my kid is willing to cut me some slack no matter what I do, because it probably won’t be the last time I do something idiotic where he is concerned.

Did you do anything totally *facepalm* dumb involving your new baby? Feel free to share in the comments.