No, I'm not pregnant, we are not moving to Belize, and so far the lottery has not been good to me. So stop that.
The big announcement is that I almost killed my son last night and then proceeded to save his life. No joke.
As a mother, I spend the majority of my time worrying. I see injuries moments before they happen, I have visions of TERRIBLE things happening. For example, I rarely walk down stairs with a child in my arms without envisioning them flailing from my grasp and falling over the railing, psycho I know.
Yesterday, as I tried to keep the kids occupied AND clean the house AND do laundry, AND mow the yard I offered to pay the kids each ONE DOLLAR if they'd help water my dying, moisture starved and neglected plants in the back yard.
They were happy to oblige, and were quite proud of the four shiny quarters I gave each of them. Ian was so proud of them, he carried them to bed for his nap and tucked them in right next to his favorite blanket buddy.
Big time foul.
I figured after a busy day, a run to Alex's first soccer practice, dinner with some friends, and an evening visit from our babysitter who is leaving for college today (sniff sniff) that the kids would fall quickly asleep without a peep. So Sean and I raced downstairs to start the next episode of Weeds.
3 minutes in, I heard choking.
I ran upstairs to find Ian gasping for breath and choking. I reached down his throat and after many failed attempts finally grabbed hold of one shiny quarter lodged in his throat. He then proceeded to throw up his entire dinner, and cough up blood. Probably from me scraping his throat in a panicked attempt to remove the bastard quarter.
I felt fear, panic, responsibility, and gratefulness that I heard him.
By this time of course, Sean and Alex were there and 'mother hen' Alex proceeded to assure her brother that 'one time, I threw up cuz I had a bad cold and had to lay on the couch for a coupla days. You're gonna be ok bud', she said.
After we all calmed down and I was ready to release Ian from my grasp the kids hugged. Yes, they hugged and Ian said, 'dat makes me feel better'.
Twelve hours later, I'm 40% recovered from the experience and will now be paying the kids in crisp dollar bills. I'm pretty sure the whole shabang took 10 years off my life.