Sunday in Sacrament meeting one of the talks was on journal keeping. Ironically, I wrote in my journal quite faithfully on a weekly and sometimes daily basis through high school and college. About the time I got married and then pregnant with Katy, I tapered off. Scapbooking took its place, and then was replaced itself by my blog. Honestly, I felt more than a little guilty as I sat there on Sunday. My blogging hasn't exactly been consistent this past year. I keep blaming it on my busy schedule, but as Katy starts middle school next year, that is only going to get worse. I need to make a commitment to do better now. I also need to do better at being more personal. Recording events is better than nothing but a blog is not near as personal as a journal. Still, I could make the blog more personal, but rarely do. Part of that is me. I'm not always comfortable sharing emotions. I'm not one to squeal with excitement when meeting someone I haven't seen in awhile- no matter how excited i really am. I also struggle show people how much they mean to me with words. Good thing for me that the saying goes "actions speak louder than words". Its kind of funny since a bawl like a baby during the silliest movies and everytime I speak in church.
Anyway, this post will be more on the personal side. We had an incident back in November that was quite frightning and slightly embarrasing for me. For these very reasons, it took me a while to tell many people outside of family members. Jared was a work and the girls were at school. Jacob and I had been at the YMCA. We were driving home so I could quickly change since his friend was on the way. Jacob sits in the very back of our van. When we pulled in the driveway he was so excited that he unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped up. I did NOT hear this. I heard the van door start to slide open. I immediately slammed on the brake and turned to scold him. But, to my surprise, I couldn't see him anywhere in the back seat. Then I heard him crying. Putting the car in park, I jumped out of the car to find him laying on the ground, with the tire rolled over his foot. In a panic I was pulling on him and yes, I even tried to lift the car off of him. So much for that theory that mothers can lift cars off of their children. Didn't work for me, the stupid car didn't even budge. I was completely panicked because I was horrified that this had happened to him by me on my watch. In my panic, Jacob, my sweet little 4 yr old, had to be the voice of reason. ""Just get in the car and drive off my foot, mom!" he yelled at me. Since I couldn't come up with a better option, I did just that. I jumped in the car, rolled slightly forward, and put it back in park. Jumping back out of the car I scooped my crying little angel up and carried him inside. I removed his shoe and sock. His foot didn't look any different to me but I figured he probably at least had some little fractures in his foot. Afterall, a van had been rolled on top of it. Elevating his foot and applying an icepack, I picked up the phone. I called Jared and then my mom. Through my hysterical sobs they were finally able to understand what had happened. Mom walked me through the signs to look for with his foot but recommended just waiting a little while to see how he did. (I love having a nurse for a mom. It has saved countless co pays and doctor fees). I had completely forgotten about our friend coming over, and she arrived with Jacob's little buddy right as I was finally calming down. Amazingly enough, although somewhat subdued he got on the floor and played with his friend. And later that afternoon, he asked to go to his sports class, where he ran around like it was any other day. His foot was completely fine.
I shudder to think what could have happened if he had fallen out at a different angle, or if I hadn't have stopped when I did. I'm still amazed that he didn't at least have a broken foot. For whatever reason, he had some gaurdian angels watching out for him that day. I am thankful everyday that the story had a happy ending.
Fast forward three months into February. It was an unseasonably warm day in the 60s. And even though the wind was gusting something fierce, it felt wonderful outside. Jacob and I came home from our daily trip to the gym. As I looked out the back door at the blue skies, I contemplated sending Jacob out to play on the trampoline. The wind had pushed the trampoline so that I had a perfect view of it from the kitchen window. I had too much to do to jump out there with him, but he could jump while I made his lunch. Then, just as quickly, I changed my mind. It was a warm day, but he was just recovering from being sick and I wasn't sure being in the wind was a good idea.
A few minutes later, as I was placing lunch on the table, we heard a strange thud in the back. I went to the sliding door and looked out. Our trampoline was completely gone. Figuring it must have lifted over the fence, we ran to the front door and over to the side of the house. Still no trampoline. Where the heck did it go so fast? And then we noticed a bile of twisted metal with blue padding across the street from the front of the house in an empty lot. I still have no idea how it managed to get there from the back yard, but I am immensely relieved that I didn't send Jacob out to play. The little half-pint would not have stopped the 60mph wind gusts from moving the trampoline. Once again I shudder to think what the outcome may have been if he had been on the trampoline during that particular wind gust. Some nighbors came out to investigate. They were eating lunch at looked out there back window to see the trampoline rolling toward them. Definately am glad it was not in the trampoline net as it rolled down the street. And, once again I am thankful to the guardian angel in the form of a quiet prompting that had me keep him in to play. Someone up above is truely watching out for this little guy.
