I Never Claimed To Be Awesome

I posted on FaceBook today the incredible calm of our day. And then Irony reared her humbling head.

The kids were all playing around while I worked on my reading challenge. Anna toddled by and I realized that she was in need of a better smelling diaper. I busied myself with that task while listening to the older three kids squeal and horse around in their bedroom. I was just about done with Anna when Thomas let loose with a bloodcurdling scream

Now, Thomas is given to screaming and squealing just for the fun of it. If you have any real suggestions as to how to make that stop, please share. But believe me when I say, we have tried the obvious ones. This being said, you might understand why after five years of Thomas and his noise proclivities, I chose to finish diapering the baby and put her clothes back on her before jumping to see what was going on.

It is a mistake I will not soon be able to shake. The guilt is already laying heavily on my shoulders. I rounded the corner into the bedroom to see my son hanging by his head from the top bunk with his feet dangling a full foot and a half from the bed below.

I jumped on the girls bed and hefted Thomas' body into my arms to alleviate the pressure on his neck. I worked to try to free his head, but there was just no way I could stand on the plush surface of the girls' bed, support his weight, and pry the two wooden slats open such that his head would come out.

As fate would have it, I was the only adult in the house. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what to do. I could send Sarah Grace across the street to the neighbors, but I was more than a little apprehensive about doing that. Aside from the whole four-year-old-crossing-the-street-without-an-adult bit, the time of day was just such that the neighbors might be home, or they might not. My kids were born with this mile-wide independent streak that would propel Sarah Grace into searching for help. As you can see, sending her out was not a viable option.

I finally realized that I was going to have to call 911. I told Sarah Grace to bring me a phone, and was rehearsing just how to present my case to a 911 operator and wondering if my body could handle the extremely odd position it was in with the added stress of Thomas' 50+ lbs of dead weight while we waited for a responder.

Sarah Grace returned with my cell phone. When I asked for the phone, I meant the house phone. My cell phone has issues at best. But when I saw that little phone in Sarah Grace's hand, inspiration struck. My baby sitter lives just a few doors down and her home number was programmed into my cell!!! I called and gave a quick, though probably not very cohesive, plea for help to Mrs. S, our babysitter's Mom. Fortunately, she could read between the lines and heard the panic in my voice and they were here in less than two minutes. I sent Sarah Grace to stand guard at the door and unlock it for our neighbors.

Mrs S and Miss H got here and managed to get Thomas freed in seconds. Thomas leaped at Miss H (his very favoritest babysitter ever!) and I kind of sank down to sit on the bed while the relief and horror and comedy of the situation played out in my head. And I sent up many thanks to my heavenly Father for His graciousness in this moment.

Thomas is fine. In fact, when we told his Daddy about his misadventure, he described it this way: "That was so cool! I was hanging by my head!"

He can't explain how it is that he got himself into that position, or rather, I can't make out his explanation. I guess I really don't need to know the how's, so long as he understands now the why's of my opposition to them playing on the top bunk. We also had us a nice long conversation about screaming and squealing and The Boy Who Cried Wolf.



I did put those two minutes to good use, though, while we waited for the heroes to arrive. Since I had my iPhone handy, and my heart was relatively sure that my son was not going to die in this predicament...I took pictures. Don't judge me. It made him smile, and helped me to pass a couple of very tense moments while keeping my mind off the 'could have beens'.