Monday, August 11, 2008

Over at My House We Have Sickness and... Stressness?

It is never a pleasant thing for either party when a toddler empties the contents of his stomach on mommy’s lap first thing in the morning. The poor child doesn’t understand what is happening, although he can attest to the fact that corn on the cob feels better going down than it does coming up. He’s not quite sure why mommy says it’s okay to keep “gagging” into her lap, but since she says that he should, he does. Over and over, until his belly (which must be larger than a person would think) is completely empty.

Mommy has a moment of panic where she is not sure how to get up from the couch without the contents of her impromptu bucket sloshing onto the floor. Thankfully the baby is still asleep so she cannot try to force her way into this scenario and suddenly decide to take up finger-painting or do any it-looks-like-a-puddle splashing. The thought of said baby waking up and wanting to participate in the clean up propels mommy into action.

In fear of another vomit episode mommy decides it is best to skip her shower until daddy gets home, so that the toddler needs not be left alone for any length of time. That is why, when twelve o’clock noon rolls around mommy is only in green sweats and a pink t-shirt, most of her hair back in a pony tail while small pieces frizz out and stick up around the temples, looking like an unkempt frazzled young mother who is in no position to be caring for small children.

Most days this doesn’t bother mommy, as looks can be deceiving and there is generally no one looking. On this day, however, mommy turns her back to the baby for a few moments to vacuum the kitchen. Most mommies have a hawk-like sense of hearing that magically develops within a few hours of bringing the baby home from the hospital. Over the noise of the vacuum it isn’t long before mommy hears the beep-beep of the phone buttons being pressed incessantly. Mommy arrives on the scene in seconds and stretches out her hand for the baby to relinquish the phone.

Since the episode at the start of the year, mommy’s paranoia has kept the phone in high places like countertops. The toddler quickly lost interest in playing with it and mommy started to slack off. The other repercussion of that incident is that mommy always punches the redial button to see what, if any, number was dialed. Today the screen flashes with “11”.

“Whew,” mommy thinks, “That was a close one.”

And then the phone rings.

Mommy knows only too well that it is standard procedure for a dispatcher to return any 911 call that connects, and that it is protocol for them send a police officer by.

Mommy feels that, for the first time in her life, she would be glad to hear a telemarketer’s voice on the other end of the line, anyone, as long as she can pick up the phone without hearing the greeting of an emergency dispatcher.

Alas, the baby had defied some perceived odds and dialed 911. And not just once, apparently. The dispatcher is very kind to mommy and the policeman that responds to the call is a handsome young man whose six-month-old, it turns out, called 911 himself in a moment of mischief and boredom. Mommy is so overjoyed at the kindness of the officer that she forgets she is standing out on the porch talking to a policeman while wearing her junk clothes with no bra on and her hair sticking out wildly from her head, holding a baby that is still in her p.j.’s because she may come down with the death virus and start puking at any moment, and what’s the sense of dressing her? To complete the vagabond look the usually clean porch is littered with two pairs of daddy’s work shoes and the toddler’s bicycle. At least mommy remembered to brush her teeth.

Mommy is not sure if ten out of ten experts agree or not, but she feels pretty expert-ish at times and according to her statistics if your kid hasn’t called 911 yet look out, because two out of two kids are doing it.

3 comments:

fawndear said...

And chances are great that, by some freak of nature, Mom will yet again have to subject herself to being the target of projectile hurling and responding 911 officers - multiple times. My condolences.
I had one of my babies throw-up on me during take-off on an airplane. I had to set there for 2 plus hours in it. Ugh! I'm too ashamed to tell you how many times I've had to deal with the officers.

Husband said...

I love you. I need to buy you an Edible Arrangement one of these days. : )

Ceidra said...

I'm telling you, your posts almost ALL make me LAUGH. Who doesn't want to buy a book that makes them laugh?

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