Caught it!

Anyone with a little one knows how difficult it can be to catch photographic evidence of those first teeth.  They never seem to want to open their mouth just right, and if they do - it's usually drowning in drool.  But I got it!  Other than the teeth, the shot kind of stinks - her arms are out of focus and for some reason, her eyes are different sizes and colors (how strange), but you can see the teeth!

Fear.

I try not to be a fearful mom.  Really, I do.  I tend to be an obsessive over-thinker - but I fight it.  I know that "worry is paying interest on a loan you didn't get" and "90% of the stuff you worry about never comes to pass" and all of that.  Over the years, I've probably accumulated months of meditation on Phillipians 4:6-7 (6Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.) and it usually really helps.   Last night, though, something happened - and I ran right smack into a huge fear that every mommy has. 

Charlotte's sitting in her highchair, eating her dinner (diced rotisserie chicken and watermelon).  I'm standing at the counter, next to her, eating some watermelon as well - talking to her Daddy on the phone.  All of the sudden, her face twists and contorts in a way that is forever burned into my mind. We've had moments before where she over-filled her mouth, and I had to jump in with the finger sweep and help her clear her throat... but this was different.  

I threw the phone down (after shouting an expletive), stuck my finger in her mouth and started sweeping.

Nothing.  

I snatched her out of the chair, flipped her upside down, and started pounding on her back (harder than I would ever want to have to hit her, but knowing that it was necessary).

Nothing.  Not even a cough, cry... just that same look of terror on her face.  Right then, my mind is thinking "Oh God, please God, get it out.  If I call 9-1-1, how long will it take for them to get here?"  All I can say outloud to Charlotte is "C'mon baby, getitoutgetitoutgetitout."

Still nothing.

I pound a few more times, flip her back up, sweep again - at one point, I'm not sure if I'm reaching food or if I've actually put my finger all the way down and am touching an organ or something.

Then she coughed, the tiniest cough.  Then a little bit bigger cough.  Then I felt what must have been the offending piece of food, but it was so tiny that I'm not entirely sure.  Then she let out a little scream, then her body relaxed and then she clung to me...  silent, but okay. 

The whole thing lasted less than 30 seconds, I'm sure, but it felt like an eternity.  

I finally realized that Jason was probably having a heart attack on the other end of the phone, so I was able to tell him everything was okay...  but it really wasn't.  After a few moments, the gravity of the situation REALLY hit me, I guess the adrenaline had kicked in before, and I started to cry.  And I cried and I cried and I cried.  A big ol' blubbering mess for the rest of the night.  Then a little more this morning.  

Charlotte?  She's fine.  In fact, after she'd clung to me for a few minutes, she started trying to dive bomb the food on her tray - ready to go back at it.  But my heart?  It hurts.  

They are so, so fragile.  No matter the milestones, no matter how many teeth or how many words they can say.  None of us are promised another day here, on this Earth, in these bodies - and while I have confidence in my faith, I'm still human - and damn that was terrifying.

So forget spaghetti.  She's eating applesauce until she's 13, and I'm going to renew my CPR certification.  It's expired and I could use the refresher.

***As an extra little tidbit, 30 minutes after she went to bed an ambulance and a fire truck pull up in front of our house.  I couldn't even dream to make that up.  There was apparantly some sort of crisis at a house caddy-corner to my own, but it gave me a heart attack just the same.  I had to fight the urge to run out and ask the medics "if I called 9-1-1 because my baby was choking, how long would it take you to get here?"

Plan her wedding and send her off to college.

May as well, because she's certainly not my itty bitty anymore.  

In the past two weeks...

• says Mama, intentionally
• says Dada, intentionally
• says Bye-Bye and waves
• dances to music
• claps and plays patty-cake (with herself)
• I'm pretty sure she says and knows "cat" - but we'll leave it as a maybe..

and then, as if all of that wasn't enough, 9 months 2 weeks and 3 days after she was born....

She popped two teeth through.  

I called Jason at work, to tell him, and  couldn't stop crying (or rolling my eyes at myself).

I've heard putting a brick on top of her head will slow this down - I may try it.

An Ode to Spaghetti: Misadventures in Self Feeding

I was so excited to finally make Charlotte spaghetti... I think everyone has pictures of themselves, from when they were little, with sauce all over their face, and noodles in their hair.IIt's almost a rite of passage...

A rite passage for the parents, that is.  Good GRIEF that was a pain to clean up.  I had to disassemble her high chair, practically, hose her down at the car wash, have my grout resealed... sheesh.  At least she liked it. 

Oh, Spaghetti.  I'll keep you close to my heart.  By the green beans.

Oh, Spaghetti.  How lovely you are, in the evening sun.

Oh, Spaghetti.  I will savor you and protect you.

Oh, Spaghetti.  I love you so much that I'll hold on to you with both hands. 

Not about spaghetti.  All day long... toys in the box, toys out of the box, in the box, out of the box. Rinse and repeat.

And we're officially big enough and mobile enough to cause mischief.

Wordless Wednesday: First Halloween Party

I hate phone books.

Ever since that crafty Al Gore invented the internet, I find phone books useless and a waste of space, paper, etc.  

Now you can opt out of receiving them.  

www.YellowPagesGoesGreen.com

I'm going to have to find something else to use as a booster seat, though....  

Oh!  Which reminds me.  I'm going to buy Charlotte a big girl car seat today.  Which I find somewhat depressing.  Where did my baby go?  

She will still be rear-facing, however, for as long as possible.  Even though the law says you can turn them at 1 year and 20 pounds (or whatever the poundage is), all research indicates that they should remain rear facing to the heighest weight or height allowed by the manufacturer of her seat.  Some states are even pushing to change those laws to reflect this new data.  I know it's not as "fun" - but it's in their best interest.  (This public service announcement brought to you by the brainwashing I've received from Miranda, the car-seat-safety nazi).  

WW - Hey Mom? Seen my cheerio?