A cautionary tale, or Hang up and park.

I recently talked about how, in some ways, I've become like my Mother in this post. I mentioned briefly how that fact can be a great thing, but focused more on some of the minorly negative aspects so I thought I would spend a bit more time on the good things about Judy.

I mean, I hope she knows how much I love and admire her. I tell her I love her every time we talk on the phone which, admittedly, isn't as often as it should be. But I freely admit to that particular character flaw.

I wish I was more like her in all the good ways. Seriously. The woman volunteered for so many things at church; and still does, made clothes for us, sewed curtains for the whole house, and when the time came, nursed her Grandmother and then her Mother through their final years, and then months, without complaint.
All of this while working as a nurse and Lactation Consultant, and eventually, caring for Grankids.
Goodness knows she prays for everyone but herself. I could go on, but this post would get annoyingly long.

Yes, she has her flaws. Running late and losing kids in the grocery store, as I've already mentioned.

But she never closed her child's head in the van window.

Can you guess who has?

It happened as we were arriving at soccer practice a few weeks ago. It's taken me this long to get over it.
Who am I kidding? I'm still not over it. That was a major adrenaline rush, I tell ya.

As I was pulling in to park the van, Carlo was calling on my cell phone to offer Linus encouragement and soccer advice. Mostly of the "have fun" and "keep your eye on the ball" variety.

Unbeknownst to me, Linus had unbuckled and stuck his head out of the open window. As I'm chatting with Carlo about what time he'll be home and what his award winning dinner will be (yeah, right) I start rolling up all the windows.
Now, I close the phone, set it down and continue rolling up the windows, and even give each of them an extra click, when I hear a gurgly noise from the backseat.
Now, Linus can be a very silly kid, so my first thought is, "what's that goofball up to now".
On the second gurgle, I look back and his head is being squished by the semi-closed window pushed up against his lower jaw.

"OH MY GOD!", I shout. I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything more colorful than that. It's what comes out naturally at these times.
Not that this is a common occurrence.

I plead the fifth. Anyway...

I quickly put the window down, he slides backward, plops in his seat, and the first words out of his mouth are, "I'm OK".

I'm all, "oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry! Are you OK!? Mommy's so sorry!" Kisses all over his head and face, checking for marks, bruises, etc.
He insists he's fine and can he go to practice now? PLEASE?

WOW, I could have run a marathon with that particular adrenaline rush. Usually, I drag a camp chair to the field and sit comfortably during practice.

This time I paced. And paced. And inwardly reprimanded myself the entire 45 minutes, wondering when Social Services would be arriving to take my children away.

So, no more talking and driving... er, parking.

Of course, Linus learned a little something from this also. He is much more careful to ask if he can unbuckle now.

And even though it's nearly impossible with those old crank-up windows...
Thanks Mom, for never squeezing my head in the car window. It makes me love you even more.

one to remember

This is cheating I know, but this is a unforgettable episode from Halloween last year. Well, more specifically, the day after Halloween.
All Saints Day for those fellow Catholics among you.
Many of you already know it, but enjoy it again and I'll come up with something new soon.
Something involving Linus' head and the van window.
How's that for a teaser?


So there I was, Carlo out of town for two weeks, the boys and I nursing our post-Halloween hangovers and I said to myself “ What a beautiful day it’s going to be, why I don’t I take these cranky, obnoxious boys to the park. We’ll feed the ducks, have a little walk, and then go get some lunch” So the dance of “who can take the longest to get shoes on and take the most circuitous route to the car” began.

Half an hour later everyone is finally buckled and relatively happy. We have a nice little walk, overfeed the fat ducks, pet a few dogs, and head back to the car at which point Linus informs me that he needs to pee. It’s no problem though, Mimi’s Café is around the corner and not too pricey, finally I seem to catch a break.

So, park the car, go in. It’s 12 noon exactly so the hostess informs me there is a 10-15 minute wait and gives us our pager. No problem, we’ll probably kill 8 of those minutes getting everyone on and off the potty, washing hands etc. Linus does his thing; Gus does his thing which involves nothing except asking for a reward of a pink m&m when I get his pants back up. Now it’s my turn: “Linus, get away from the door, leave it locked, stand over there, Gus, go stand next to your brother, stop touching your brother, hands to yourself!” You get the picture.

As I stand up to get “put back together” I sense the pager fall out of my pocket and hear the ringing of porcelain as it falls and the simultaneous automatic flushing of the toilet. I think to myself “surely it fell to the floor” I look desperately around the toilet, not there. I look in the toilet, not there either...wait a minute, is that something down in the hole? Oh shit (no pun intended) it is!!! What do I do!! Maybe I can just pull it out...

Yes my friends, I did exactly what you’re thinking. I rolled up my sleeve and stuck my hand in a public toilet. That pager is not coming out... but it’s going down even further! Because as I pull my hand out to go wash up the freakin’ auto flusher starts! NOOOO!

“Linus, put those latch opening skills to work, I need to wash my hands and get the manager!”

Up to this point we have been alone in the bathroom, but now there’s a pee rush. There are only three stalls, so as the third person comes in I warn her, in very general, non self-incriminating language to not use the last stall. As we are walking through the restaurant to find a manager Linus is behind me “Mom what’s that thing in the toilet? Did it fall in? Why did you put your hand in there?” Me: “SHHH!”

We get to the hostess stand, with my head hanging I explain the status of her pager and apologize profusely. She is so sweet, “no problem, I’ll tell the manager and get you a new one” I’m thinking, should I make a run for it? No the kids will only slow me down, I’ll have to stay and face the piped in pseudo-jazz music. We sheepishly sit down in the waiting area with our new pager.

That’s really the end of the story. Gus managed to avoid any head bumps despite climbing in and out of the chair numerous times. Linus did get his arm stuck in the back of his chair and screamed loudly as I tried to remove it, at which point I clamped my hand tightly over his mouth. He managed to get it out on his own eventually. All in all a mostly nice day out with the boys.

I just have to add; only a parent or a plumber could eat a sandwich within 30 minutes of having their hand in a toilet.


Hope you all had a Happy Halloween!