Accident Prone

Yesterday wasn't the only time this week that Mark saved one of our children. Last Sunday he was given the same opportunity.

The worst sound that any parent can hear is the sound of their child shrieking in pain. Thanks to Micah, I've heard this sound two too many times. I don't know if it is because he's my first boy or if it is because he just has a special inclination towards injury, but Micah is able to find danger in what seems to be the most harmless of situations.

At church on Sunday Elena received a coupon for a free donut because it was the Sunday before her birthday. She couldn't wait to claim her gift, so we all decided to go upstairs with her to the cafe. After we picked up Micah and Christina, Elena ran up the stairs to the main floor of the church. The other 5 of us went to take the elevator because Isaiah was in the stroller. Mark had to run to the bathroom and separated from us.

Christina pushed the button for the elevator. I was talking to Isaiah, when I heard the highest-pitched, blood-curdling shriek. I look up, and Micah's fingers were stuck between the door of the elevator and the wall. I guess that he decided to push the door open with his hand and his hand went into the pocket for the door.

The elevator for the church is set away from all of the activity, and we're always the last ones to leave, so there was NO ONE around. (Yes, out of almost 2,000 people there wasn't a soul anywhere within ear shot.) My first instinct was to try and pull Micah's fingers out of the door, but they wouldn't budge. In the meantime, he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Christina was yelling and panicking at the same time. If Elena was with us, I would have had her run for help, but she was upstairs.

I tried to push the door in a bit to give me some more room to pull his little fingers out, but I had no luck. I squeezed into the open part of the door and started pushing the buttons, but the door wouldn't respond. I was about to push the alarm button, when the door all of the sudden opened.

Apparently, Mark was in the bathroom mid-stream when he heard the scream. He finished quickly and ran outside, where Micah is screaming, Christina is panicking and Isaiah is watching the scene half-awake from his stroller. As I was trying to open the elevator from the inside, he tried to pull his fingers gently, but they wouldn't come out. Then he decided to yank them out. He pushed his weight against the elevator and pulled as hard as he could. I guess he's a little bit stronger than I am, because Micah's fingers finally pulled free.

Micah was still screaming at the top of his lungs and staring at his fingers now. We hurried into the elevator and went upstairs to reunite with Elena and get ice from the cafe. The whole time Micah was screaming. His fingers swelled up like little balloons.

I reported the incident at guest services and I was starting to worry that his fingers might be broken. I asked him to bend them and he wouldn't. Then, he saw one of his friends from his Sunday School class. He started playing, all the time nursing his hand. We kept trying to get him to keep his hands in the ice, but he want to play more and more. Finally, we saw him give his sister 5 with the elevator hand. He winced a little, and then switched hands, but he didn't scream. That was when I knew he was going to be okay.

You know, this reminds me of his last trip to the ER. I will have to share that one with you a later time. Oh, and it reminds me of the escalator incident. I'll put that on the list, too. Now, I need to go make sure the boys aren't getting into any MORE trouble.

911 - Not An Emergency

This morning Micah woke up earlier than Mark or I was willing to wake up. In a sleep-induced fog, Mark turned on his cell phone, found a game for Micah to play, and then handed him the phone. Micah was quiet and happy, but Mark jolted awake when he heard a distant voice say, "Is your mommy there?"

Apparently, Micah had gotten bored with Brick Breaker and had moved on to bigger and better things-such as calling 911. The 911 operator was the friendly voice that Mark heard on the other side of the phone. I wish I could say that this was a solitary call to 911. It is actually our 4th call to 911 this year.

Is it possible to be "The Boy That Cried Wolf" when it comes to calling 911? Will the police station recognize our phone number and stop calling back to see if there is really a problem? Micah has the greatest knack for calling 911. He has called 3 out of the past 4 times. I don't even think he knows what 911 is. He just knows that if he pushes a certain button (we're not sure if there is a special emergency button on Mark's cell phone), that a friendly voice will talk back. Don't even bother suggesting that we lock the phone. There is some special way to call 911 with the lock on. The funniest thing is, Mark and I don't know how to call 911 with the lock on-only Micah has solved this mystery.

Isaiah has joined his brother in the excitement of calling 911. Our 3rd call of the year was my then 15 month old dialing 911 from the fax line. There is no phone attached to this fax line, so when the police called back, I couldn't answer the phone and tell them not to bother. I knew I was about to get a visit.

The first thing I did was look around the house. It was a Monday morning, and the house was a disaster from the weekend and I hadn't yet had a chance to clean it. (Not that I was really going to clean it right away, but I figured that I at least had a reason for the mess.) In anticipation of my visit, I started running through the house, cleaning as fast as I could (well, I was mostly cleaning, but I just had to update my Facebook page about what was going on). The house was looking better, but was definitely not perfect when the officer showed up at my door.

When the police officer showed up, I explained to him that my 1 year old dialed 911 from the fax line. I thought he might be impressed at how smart he was, but instead he looked at me like I might be a little crazy. I guess with a lame reason like that he figured I might be held silently at gun point and had to resort to making up some last minute story to get rid of him. He just said, "I need to check out the house, ma'am."

Now, when a police officer is checking out your house, you notice all of the things that are laying around that just didn't bother you before he showed up. He methodically checked every room until he saw the boys in the basement. The baby was happily playing with a toy and Micah looked up and gave him a wide grin. At that point, he stopped checking the house. The boys were obviously under no stress. I breathed a sigh of relief that he never made it to the laundry room. I was a little behind on laundry.

The officer politely left and I thanked him. I breathed a big sigh of relief - hoping that I didn't have to deal with 911 again. Then, there was this morning. My kids keep me wondering what excitement each day will bring.

You did WHAT in the front yard?

I am still relatively new on the raising boys scene. Today I realize that the difference is even bigger than I ever imagined...

My son has been potty trained since right before he turned 2. We taught him to sit on the toilet, because he was too short to effectively pee into it. For him it was easy-he has 2 older sisters. It was also easy to keep the bathroom clean. That was until we started to confuse him.

Micah's confusion began In March when we went to Nebraska to visit my mother-in-law. At one point we drove from Omaha to Columbus to visit some family friends. About 4 blocks from our destination, Micah started to cry and yell about how bad he had to go. Mark stopped and as he was pulling Micah out of the car to pee on the side of the road near a farm, I told him I was pretty sure we were almost there. He wasn't so sure, so he insisted on having Micah pee outside. As he was pulling down the little guy's pants, I was looking across one of the farms, sure that I could see their property from the car. Nevertheless, Micah was getting a lesson in peeing standing up.

Once Mark pulled his pants down, he told Micah to pee. He looked down and the ground for a second, then tried to squat. Mark stood him back up and told him, "Just pee like Daddy." Micah gave him a blank look and tried to squat again.

This time when Mark stood him up, he started to cry again. "I go potty real bad," or something like that came from him mouth. I leaned out of the car and told him, "Just hold him in a sitting position."

"What?" Mark said, but looking at the sadness of his son, he decided to hold him. I swear that kid peed a gallon of liquid. Mark even commented how ridiculous it was that that much liquid could come from someone so little. We threw him back in the car and drove the last 2 blocks to our friend's house. Little did we know that we planted a seed in the back of his head.

Last week I went to my favorite consignment store. They had just marked down their left over winter clothing 75%. I was having a shopping good time buying Gap jeans for $1 and $2 and finding great quality winter coats for $7.50, Well, when I was there Micah had to go to the bathroom. I showed him where the bathroom was and continued to shop. All of the sudden I heard crying coming from the bathroom. The pain kind of cry.

I walked over there and another shopping mom said that he was going to the bathroom with the door wide open (big surprise) and she saw him slam his fingers when he closed the toilet lid. I cuddled him and thought nothing more of it. We bought our stuff and left.

Well, once I arrived home, I realized that we were going to have to return to the store. I had forgotten some of my stuff. It's a little bit of a drive to the store so I returned the next day. Once I got there, I found another rack of clothes to go through and began to shop.

Apparently Micah had to go to the bathroom again, but there was no way that he was going on that finger-crushing toilet again. So, he made for the front of the store. About this time, I started counting heads (something you do frequently when you have a lot of kids). I was missing one. I called up to the owner of the shop (this is a laid back, small shop) and asked her if she could see Micah. There was a lady with her grandchild standing in the front of the store. "What does he look like?"

I described him to her and she began to nod her head and pointed out the window, "I think he's peeing outside."

I stopped, horrified, "What did you say?"

"Well, he just pulled his pants down in the front of the store and he's peeing in that little patch of grass in front of the store,"

I put my shopping bag down and walked to the front of the store. Sure enough, Micah was pulling up his pants and walking back in the door. "Please button?" he asked as he pointed to the button on his jeans. I was speechless. Little did I know that was the beginning.

Since last week he has peed twice in the front yard of the house. I kept telling him to stop. I think Mark, although he would tell him to stop, was secretly glad that his boy was finally able to pee like a man. Today was the worst. Today, he was out taking a leak in the front yard, when he realized that he had to poop as well.

First, let me just interject that there is a reason that I am starting to blog after a long absence. Something about dealing with poop makes me have to release my frustration by writing. Hence the address of my blog: poopyday.blogspot.com. Back to my story...

Anyway, Mark had stopped by to grab something out of the garage when he saw his own flesh and blood squat in the front yard and plop his business right on the front walkway. I heard my name being yelled from the front yard and I stepped outside. Mark, in a state of disbelief, told me, "Our son just pooped on the front walk!"

My first reaction was to look around and make sure that no one was around. Thankfully, there were no neighbors out at the time. Next I made Micah get toilet paper and a bag a clean up the mess. Then.... okay, there is no "then." I am completely at a loss on how to deal with a kid who has no qualms with doing his business on the front walkway. Maybe I'll have to blog again once I have that epiphany...