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.