The end – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

I called 911 once, but the call never went through.

I made the call from a big clunky cordless phone that sporadically worked. 

I am so glad the call didn’t go through. It would’ve been so embarrassing. I couldn’t imagine having to explain how my daughter’s finger got stuck in the toilet.

Well, it wasn’t exactly like that.

My mom gave Angel a toilet piggy bank when she was potty training. Everytime she went potty, she was allowed to put a coin into the toilet bank and it would make a flushing sound. Except on that one day when she put her finger into the bank instead of a coin. Her finger got stuck and I failed to get her finger out. I even failed at calling 911. It was terrible. Angel was screaming, her finger was swelling, and then she started to shake.

I immediately went into tunnel vision panic mode. My IQ dropped 50 points instantly. My daughter and I were hysterical. 

If you think that I am a nurse, doctor, or EMT…please stop….. Could you imagine?? Ha hahaha. 

I eventually discovered that I could release her finger by pushing down on the lever instead of trying to pull it out which locked it.

It’s a total wonder that Angel survived her childhood. 

Tomorrow we are dropping her off at college. We are saying goodbye to our firstborn for the first time. 

I have been anxious about this moment all week. Will I remain cool, calm, and collected as I wave goodbye for the last time? Will I be a weeping, hysterical mess of a person? I am afraid. I am not one for public weeping or making scenes.. Will I be heartless if I keep it together? Or will I be a slobbering raccoon eyed mess? 

When my kids were little, I told myself that I would keep a journal of everything that happened. 

I remember when Angel had many imaginary friends. One of them was named Volleyball. She was so upset when Uncle Luke told her that he got hit in the head with a volleyball. How could her friend do such a thing? Now I’m taking her to college…

Alex used to draw cute little stick people with big heads and eyes. He used to cry when he heard “monster” trucks go by because he was afraid of the monsters growling in the trucks. He was such a mama’s boy. Now all of his little drawing are put away in storage, he is driving, and he wants nothing to do with me…

Arabella used to drive us all crazy by pretending she was a cat. She would meow and crawl around on her hands and knees.. Now she is a teenager too.

Where did the time go?? I feel so bad that I never did write in my journal like I wanted to. I could’ve filled it with so many things.. Memories that are now fading or forgotten..

I did the best parenting job that I could. I don’t have any regrets.

Trying to get clean – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

It always seemed strange to me that my kids schedule has always been misaligned with mine.

In the earlier years of parenting three little kids, I was in my 20’s and still longed to sleep in. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to sleep in until 9 AM! But my kids were always up around 6 AM or some crazy hour!

Then the middle childhood years hit and for a brief overlap, our schedules entwined. No one got up particularly early or stayed up too late.

Now I am in my 40’s and the mother of three teenagers. I can’t seem to sleep in much past 6 for the life of me! It doesn’t matter what time I go to bed. My teens like to stay up until all hours of the night. They ask what time they need to be home at night. I always say 10 PM. Why?? Because that is the time that I want to go to bed! I seriously need my beauty sleep because the older I get the earlier morning comes. This is another thing I never thought would happen to me.

Where am I going with this story??!?

When my kids were little, I didn’t want to get up at 5 AM to take a shower. So if I was lucky enough to take a shower, I would sometimes try to get it in during nap time. Yes, there were times I had to have my baby right next to me while I showered. I remember being a nursing mom with a crying baby outside the shower next to me. It wasn’t very much fun and seemed counterproductive.

That was my reality in those days.

One day I decided to take a shower at nap time. After stepping out of the shower, I thought I heard a noise. I wrapped in a towel and opened the door to explore. Sure enough, I saw Arabella open the front door and run out of the house. My 2 year old was heading towards the road. I chased her down the driveway in nothing but a towel screaming like a banshee. What a fun game mom is playing today! My shrieks got louder as Arabella approached the street which stopped her in her tracks.

When I see new moms walking around grocery stores in their pajamas, I understand.

When did showering and self-care become an act of selfishness anyway??

Of course, those days are long behind me now.

Running with razor blades – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

A long time ago, back when both of my grandparents were still alive, Paul and I took our little girl Angel out for a visit. My grandparents lived in a house where all of the main rooms downstairs were connected in a circular pattern. Think indoor running track. Well, that is exactly what my kids used it for anyway. It wasn’t bothersome, they wore off some extra energy, and you always knew their whereabouts.

On that day, Angel ran quite a few laps. After awhile we tuned out the constant tread of her little feet. That is until we heard the noise that no parent ever wants to hear…

Absolute silence.

I went to check on her.

What I saw next made me shriek in terror. I sqawked louder than a mother bird protecting her nest from predators.

Angel was holding a handful of straight edge razor blades. Her bloody little fingers were bringing them towards her mouth in slow motion. I screamed! She dropped her find and cried in response to my fear. I freaked out as Paul calmly inspected her bloody hands.

My grandma felt horrible. My grandparents kept everything. Although their house did not reflect hoarding or clutter, they kept many useless objects. They tucked those objects into hidden nooks and crannies like they were treasure. The razor blades from another era were hidden in the back of a bottom lower cupboard. In those brief seconds of silence, Angel found them and attempted to eat them.

Thankfully, she didn’t get seriously hurt. She didn’t need stitches. She just had a few cuts on her hands. Sometimes I shudder to think about what could have happened if I didn’t get there when I did.

It was on that day that I learned a lesson as a relatively new parent.

I learned that sometimes my kids are going to do things that hurt them. As a parent, it is very difficult to watch. If they would only listen to me, then maybe they could save themselves the pain of learning things the hard way.

Unfortunately that is not the way life works.

Sometimes I wonder if that is how God feels about us.

 

Broken snow globes – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

Back when Angel was a very little girl, perhaps before her siblings were born, I started a snow globe collection for her. Beautiful dancers and assorted wildlife swirled in the glistening snow. I put her collection safe up high on a ledge that she, for sure, couldn’t reach. She could gaze at them during nap time.

Ah, nap time. Well, what was supposed to be nap time.

When I entered her room that afternoon, there was a carnage of broken creatures that escaped their forever winter out of shattered glass. All of the snow globes were broken and Angel had glitter coming out of her mouth.

I called poison control that day.

What do you suspect is in snow globe water? Not drinking water, I’m sure.

Is eating globs of globe glitter harmful?

God forbid, did she swallow any of the glass??

Somehow she managed to survive until adulthood.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Even if I had the snow globes suspended from the ceiling, they wouldn’t be high enough to keep out of the hands of a curious toddler.

Not long after that, I put the number for poison control on speed dial.