I don't get too easily worked up over things that I should get worked up over. But don't worry - I get worked up over everything else. Last week among a perfectly swell Friday I got pretty worked up and this time it really mattered.
I'm not sure where the boundary of information should stop when it comes to our internet community but I just think this needs to be said in case any of you naive mothers like myself need to hear it.
Brooks and I were vacuuming the upstairs in our vacuuming attire which for him is a diaper. Don't tell Mr. B but I bought Brooks his own vacuum cleaner for $3 at a garage sale and I will let you decide if he likes it or not. It has wheels and makes noise....
Well, as I normally don't do - I bolted down the stairs when I heard the littlest man crying and in the 60 seconds that I was away our lives could have changed forever. Fortunately, we just have a shattered 100 pound mirror and nothing else. This is the same mirror that I told my mom Brooks never had noticed in his playtime. Last Friday he noticed it and I propose he decided to act like his mama and ferociously vacuum - knocking into everything along the way.
When I say there were 100 ways for this accident to have severely injured or worse killed our child I am not lying. And there was one way for the whole incident to only result in a shattered mirror and a mama's "cool" and nothing more - there was only one way.
I haven't stopped replaying the thunderous sound of the mirror sliding down the stairs in my head. Then I hear the sweet voice of our almost two year old saying, "mama, mirror bonk head." Our little ones' only recollection of this monstrous event was that the mirror happened to slightly bonk his head. Can you hear my sigh of relief just then as I relived that one minute.
Literally, I can not stop thanking God for protecting my child. The night before I had had another poor night of sleep and I think I had spent the whole morning thinking about my issues....the things that really don't matter when there are little people under your roof. When I saw the mirror at the bottom of the stairs and saw our child, unscathed, at the top, I instantly felt my heart explode. I truly believe there were angels protecting him from the peril that his mom had so easily looked past. To say I was worked up the rest of the day is an understatement. I can't stop thinking about the good that came from that seemingly disastrous morning. A few less hours of sleep a night just doesn't matter. Nor will my life change if I don't get to work out one day or if the laundry doesn't get folded. My life would change if one of my boys were hurt - especially because of my own negligence. Life can change in an instant but I am so grateful that it didn't change in that instant. Thank you, God.
Ministry After God Takes a Beloved Wife
1 day ago
I thanked God the moment you told me this. O M Gosh...I am so glad that no one was hurt and so glad this mirror is gone and will not fall over and hurt any of you, including Amos.
ReplyDeleteLove you. We are blessed. Keep the angels around for a long time . Thank God Thank God Thank God
Oh, Betsy! I am SO SORRY that happened! How scary! I am so thankful that the 'what if' did not happen and that little man is fine! You are a wonderful mama and your love for those boys shines through in your writing about them.
ReplyDeleteIf it makes you feel any better, Travers used to like to throw things down the stairs when he was Brooks' age. This is no big deal, unless you have a child William's age at the bottom of the stairs. Cue me.
ReplyDeleteJust in case you were wondering, a plastic trash can is totally capable of busting a baby's head open to require stitches when thrown by a toodler from the top step. FYI.
I think you need to just get used to making trips to the emergency room. I had stitches in my face FIVE times before I was six years old. Three of them were Travers' fault. The majority of Travers ear had to be reattached when he was 9ish because he ripped it off in an unfortunate trampoline event.
My parents next door neighbor is and was a plastic surgeon and he told my mom they would have to stop meeting in the emergency room or he might have to call the authorities!